


Detroit: Become High School

by strange_nut_pirate



Category: Detroit: Become Human, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) RPF, detroit become human
Genre: "Jericho", "high school", F/F, F/M, First Love, High School AU, Identity Issues, Jericho - Freeform, Jericrew, M/M, Teenage Rebellion, Teenagers, Unrequited Love, connor has identity issues, tonnes of headcanons included
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 14:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strange_nut_pirate/pseuds/strange_nut_pirate
Summary: Cyder Line Academy is one of the most popular schools in Detroit. But, like every high school, every student has their own stories and issues to uncover, and this is no exception. Connor Anderson is tired of living under his brother and father's intimidating shadow, and wishes for his life to circle a little more around him and not just other people. Markus Manfred is new and oblivious to the harshness of high school life, and as he is thrown headfirst into it, it doesn't take him long to find some things that goes on in schools are absolutely unacceptable. Kara Acxa has always been perfectly content in her breezy, bubbled life, but when she witnesses a federal crime with no simple answer on the walk back from school, her life changes entirely.





	1. "Start of Sophomore" (Connor's P.O.V)

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE DISCLAIMER!!!!
> 
> Ok so, I'll only state this here. Since this is a DBH fanfic and a highschool AU, I decided to (obviously) set this in Detroit. HOWEVER, I have noooooo clue about how the American school system works, for I live in Australia. I don't know their traditions. I don't know their schools hours. I don't know how to play the sports that are considered popular in America (eg American football, baseball etc.), I don't use Fahrenheit or the Imperial System, and the weather/seasons are very different in Australia then in America. I've never been to America, and I have no American friends irl who can give me insight, so I've based this all around lazy research. 
> 
> Another disclaimer: I've set this year in sophomore year (year 10), but I have actually just started freshman year (year 9), so I have no clue how the timetables or what classes are in America, or more specifically, Detroit. I tried my best, but I just know there will be some mistakes here. Feel free to correct me.
> 
> Once again I am SO sorry if I muck something up, because I'm seriously flying blind here. All I can trust is some information off quora and my dodgy internet friends who may or may not love to mess with me. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On normal days, Connor would be fine waking up. But today was the first day of his sophomore year at Cyder Line Academy, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to it at all. He knew there would be more stacks if homework, horrible teachers (like Mr Perkins, who hated his guts), the stressful social school hierarchy and Gavin Reeds, a man who found solace in picking on him. But if Connor knew anything, it would be to get up quickly before his dad and brother start yelling at him.

“Connor! The fuck are you doing? Get up!” 

Connor stirred drowsily, trying to mentally block out his dad’s insistent yelling. 

“Connor, I swear to god, I will bust down your door in a few moments if you don't wake up!” He heard his father grumble outside.

Preferring to not have an enraged, tired father invade his room, he quickly responded with an “I'm up! I'm up!”

He blinked and stirred, his eyes slowly adjusting to the morning light slipping through the blinds, and the warm air of the stuffy, unventilated bedroom. As Connor groaned and rolled himself out of bed, he glanced resentfully at his calendar and sighed. September 19th, 2019. The day he will be starting his sophomore year. And he already knew it was going to be difficult, if freshman year told him anything. There were to be more suffocating homework and exams, the pressure of colleges, dealing with horrid teachers and, of course, Gavin Reeds, who was a problem all on his own.

He then walked over to the large tank of brightly coloured fish, and quickly fed them. He smiled, because the fishes did looked quite content with their breakfast, which made Connor feel nice himself. Connor made a beeline to his birch closet, and tried not to feel the stress of picking out the most appropriate attire for the first day. But alas, it was quite inevitable.

Upon picking and choosing his shirt, his small moments of privacy was soon cut short as his older brother stepped in without bothering to knock. 

“Normally, I wouldn't care if you were late, but dad would crack the shits if I don't personally drive your ass to school,” he stated, coldly. “And you're taking _forever_.”

But his chilling expression soon changed into a patronising sneer as he saw his brother’s distress. 

“Having trouble choosing what to wear?” He asked, his eyebrows raised. “What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“Go away so I can change, Ronan.”

“Whoa, someone's grumpy today. Now I've got two grumpy family members to deal with.”

Connor took one look at what Ronan was wearing and pouted. Ronan always got it right. He was wearing a white shirt with the Detroit Tigers logo on it. On top of it, he was wearing a light denim jacket, that was cuffed at the sleeves, dark jeans and white Vans. His sunglasses were also hanging loosely off his neckline. All in all, it wasn't much, and he looked quite normal, but Connor thought it was fashion genius. It wasn't too flashy, but it wasn't laid back. It made Ronan genuinely look nice, and more older and mature, though he was anything but. 

“How do you do that?” Connor blurted.

“What?”

“You know, make yourself look so cool without even trying?”

Ronan just laughed fondly albeit condescendingly in response, his blue eyes flashing with amusement. 

“I'm serious! You're the one starting your senior year, you should be close to tears! It's your last first day of high school ever!”

Ronan rolled his eyes and ruffled Connor’s hair. 

“Well, if you want to be like me, you've got to become more faster, stronger, resilient and be equip with all of my brilliant charms,” he said, turning to walk out of Connor’s room, and grinning like his older brotherly ‘advice’ was very helpful.

“I never said I wanted to be like you, I just wanted to know what to wear!” Connor called, but Ronan was already out of the door.

He sighed and faced his closet forlornly. With a few more minutes of stressing and inner debates, Connor decided to go with grey jeans, a Detroit hoodie and his wristwatch that his dad got him for his birthday last year. And whilst looking at his wristwatch, he realised that he _really_ needed to hurry up if he wanted to avoid both his dad and Ronan yelling more at him. 

So he quickly rushed over to the bathroom, speed-brushed his teeth, and thanked god he packed his school bag the night before. Upon arriving to the kitchen, Ronan was ready to leave and was now yelling at him to hurry, and Hank looked conflicted as to which one of his sons he should murder first. Connor then quickly grabbed a stale muesli bar from the pantry and gave Sumo a nice pat, before embracing his dad.

“You take care, Connor,” Hank said gruffly, before letting go. “Now you boys go to school and Ronan-” he pointed a finger at Ronan who smiled innocently on instinct, “no causing trouble on your first day. And Connor-” his finger shifted to his youngest son, “try to not look so goofy and clueless. It's weird.”

Ronan was unsuccessfully trying to suppress his snickers as Connor nodded obediently. Hank gestured towards the front door.

“Now go. I still need to make my coffee and take a shower, because god knows I smell like Satan’s musty anus,” he sniffed.

By the time they made it to Cyder Line Academy _, Ronan had already informed Connor about how ridiculous he looked._

_“You do realise the temperature today is going to be about 84°, right?” He asked, staring at his hoodie. “And your pants and shoes really don't go together.”_

_Connor huffed and wished for the thousandth time that Ronan would one day miraculously cease to speak, and that his school will enable uniforms._

_They arrived about a good twenty minutes before the start of the first bell thanks to Ronan’s insane driving. Connor watched blankly as friends were tearfully reuniting with others and burst into conversations about what their summer had been like. Connor saw new couples that had no doubt sparked the wheel of gossip in the school, and he spotted old ones, who were wrapped up in each other’s arms. He spotted some new faces of the school, but mostly old ones, though the new freshman sure did look nervous. _And rightfully so, _Connor thought, as his eyes coincidentally landed on Gavin Reeds.___

___Once Gavin met his eyes too, a large scowl blessed his antagonising face. Connor gulped as Gavin looked as though he may come over, but as Gavin pivoted his body, he stopped short, his eyes widening at something directly behind Connor and turned back around reluctantly, though he was still radiating pure hatred. Connor turned to see Ronan death-glaring at Gavin coolly._ _ _

___“I thought you already left to hang out with your friends or something,” Connor said dumbly, shivering at the thought of being on the receiving side of brother’s glare._ _ _

___“Let me know if he comes at you again,” Ronan ignored, his tone one that could send a stampede of rhinos running in the opposite direction. “He's not allowed to mess with you anymore.”_ _ _

___Connor nodded slowly as Ronan walked off, possibly to go hang out with his many, multiple, _cooler_ friends._ _ _

___Connor never planned on telling Ronan or his dad about the number of verbal offences Gavin had thrown at Connor over the past two years. Sure, ever since seventh year Gavin had been horrible to him. In eighth grade, when Ronan witnessed one of the many assaults that was delivered by Gavin and his gang, he got so mad, and threw some punches himself. Connor shuddered when he thought of the scene, and how _mad_ Ronan was. After, he had dragged Connor back home and explained in detail to Hank what had happened. It took hours to convince his two family members not to go to the principal. _ _ _

___Ronan had roughed them up pretty badly, and Connor figured Ronan was the only guy Gavin legitimately feared. Connor knew he should use that to his advantage, but if he was being honest with himself, he would rather Ronan (and his dad) be kept in the dark about all of this._ _ _

___It wasn't the number of threats Gavin spewed at him every time they did go toe-to-toe, it was the plain fact that he was fed up of living under his brother's shadow. He knew Ronan was generally better than him, and that annoyed him quite a bit. He had been living under Ronan’s protection for too long, and if Gavin should fear anyone. It should be Connor. And Connor will eventually stand up for himself._ _ _

___But that day was not today._ _ _

___Once Ronan left, Gavin immediately started to make his way towards Connor, his other insolent friends not too far behind him._ _ _

___“Hey Connor,” Gavin sneered, slinging an arm around him tightly, “how was your holidays?”_ _ _

___“They were ok,” Connor answered evenly._ _ _

___“Really? I'm glad they were. But unfortunately, your bitchy-ass is back in school now, and we have _a lot_ of things to catch up on.”_ _ _

___With that, he shoved Connor into the nearest wall, which turned out to be the greenhouse, and the hot plastic wall burned against him. Connor shifted uncomfortably._ _ _

___“Still not trying to stand up for yourself? Well I wouldn't expect much from such a retarded pussy,” Gavin spat, as his friends laughed._ _ _

___All Connor could do was glare back at him, though it wasn't as nearly threatening as Ronan’s ice blue eyes can produce._ _ _

___“You look so stupid,” one of Gavin's friends laughed. “What kind of dog’s vagina were you birthed from?”_ _ _

___Connor just wanted to leave. Or rather, he would rather _they_ leave. And he knew the quickest way they would was if he remained quiet. They wouldn't have a physical go at him before school started. _ _ _

___“You just never get upset with this, do you, Connor?” Gavin sneered, tightening his hold on him. “You never cry or scream or fight back or do anything. What are you? Some sort of fucking robot?!”_ _ _

___With that, Gavin punched him right in the face. _Welp, I was wrong about things not getting physical,_ Connor thought._ _ _

___It wasn't a hard punch. It wasn't enough to cause a bruise or start bleeding, but the punch to the chest might've bruised._ _ _

___“Are you going to go crying to your asshole brother after this?”_ _ _

___“You're so pathetic.”_ _ _

___“You just think your Mr-fuckin-Perfect, don't ya?”_ _ _

___Gavin was smiling now. He was enjoying it. He must've missed picking on Connor. He raised his fist to strike a blow again, but is eyes caught something else exiting the greenhouse._ _ _

___“Ralph will be planting all sorts of flowers! Yes! Yes! There will be sunflowers. Ralph will plant lovely sunflowers!”_ _ _

___The boys turned their heads to spot the blonde boy skipping excitedly into the greenhouse, not noticing Connor or Gavin and his gang. Gavin’s hands immediately slackened._ _ _

___“Oh lookie here, it’s the psycho freak,” Gavin cackled, gesturing at Ralph. “What do ya say, guys? Maybe we should go rough him up a bit. Can't have him forgetting how much of a creep he is.”_ _ _

___“He'll probably grow up being a homeless pedo,” said another one of the boys. “You know, living on the streets and shit, and sucking dick for money.”_ _ _

___“He'll definitely be a drug addict. Or a rapist. Maybe both. Maybe he already is.”_ _ _

___“He's so fucking weird. I don't know, he even scares the shit out of me. I saw him approaching my little sister with a flower once. Had to teach him a solid lesson,” said another guy, who cracked his meaty knuckles._ _ _

___Gavin let go of Connor and started making his way over to his next target, his friends in tow._ _ _

___“I'll catch you later, fag,” Gavin insulted, before spitting in Connor’s face for good measure._ _ _

____What a lovely start to the day,_ Connor thought sarcastically as he heard Ralph cries from inside the greenhouse._ _ _

___Connor made his way to his locker, keyed in his code and started to get ready for his first two periods. Double geometry. That didn't seem so bad. He had a few acquaintances within that class, and he didn't mind the class itself. But, first he had to get through a boring, all-school assembly, that was sure to be a pain._ _ _

___And it was._ _ _

___Upon making it to the assembly with the rest of his Homeroom class, the principal stepped up on the small podium, and smiled at the academy proudly. She welcomed back old students, and greeted new ones, then went on with some inspirational speech for 2019, and all of the blatant hopes she had for the school. Connor listened nevertheless, but he couldn't help but notice there was a new student in his class._ _ _

___The boy looked nervous, his eyes occasionally scanning the sea of students, but also trying to look normal and blend in. Unfortunately for him, new students who weren't freshman stood out like a sore thumb, and others were casting some curious glances at the tanned boy._ _ _

___Once assembly had ended, Connor made his way down to the room where he was assigned double geometry. He watched as few students trickled in, some who even said a small ‘hello’ to him. They all went to sit in their seats, flunked with their friends._ _ _

___“Hi, Connor,” Daniel greeted, sitting next to him tentatively._ _ _

___“Hello, Daniel. How was your summers?” Connor asked politely._ _ _

___“Pretty good. My family and I went to Chile and Peru. Emma really enjoyed it. How about you?”_ _ _

___“I just stayed around in Detroit, but that's okay. Gave me a chance to relax before school started up again.”_ _ _

___Daniel nodded in understanding, and a content silence settled over them._ _ _

___Daniel and Connor weren't exactly friends, but they were close acquaintances with each other. Both of them being quite unpopular, and leaning more towards the introverted side, they could find some sort of solace in that. Daniel was seen as somewhat of a punching bag to the other boys at school too, so Connor assumed he didn't have any friends either._ _ _

___Then the teacher walked in with the new kid._ _ _

___“So sorry! I'm a bit late,” Mr Collins exclaimed as he shuffled to his desk and dumped his heavy satchel. “But welcome back everybody! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. And on the topic of ‘welcoming’, can everyone give a warm welcome to our newest student at Cyder Line Academy, Markus.”_ _ _

___There was a scattered applause, and the new guy, Markus, smiled uncomfortably. Though he looked a little hesitant, Connor picked up that he held himself quite confidently. He had a brown buzz cut, coffee-coloured complexion, but the most striking thing about him was his eyes. One leafy green, the other sky blue._ _ _

___“Go and introduce yourself, Markus,” Mr Collins encouraged, running a hand through his greying hair as he searched for something in his satchel._ _ _

___“Ok, um,” he started, “hi. I'm Markus Manfred. I moved here from Delaware to Michigan not too long ago when my dad got a new job opportunity to continue his career in art. Um, I was homeschooled for most of my life, so attending an actual school is really different. But I'll get used to it.”_ _ _

___The teacher nodded, seemingly satisfied with Markus’ introduction._ _ _

___“Well, I'm sure we are all very honoured to be your first time at school,” Mr Collins said, unaware of the suppressed snickers throughout the class. “You may take a seat next to North.”_ _ _

___Upon hearing her name, North looked up in surprise. She maybe been zoning out before, and though she was one of the most beautiful albeit intimidating girls in the school, Markus obliviously dumped his things next to her, and sat down with ease._ _ _

___With that, double geometry began. And so did the actual school year._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I was struggling a bit in case you didn't realise, and I've only just begun lmao
> 
> So lemme clear up some stuff you may of missed here. Ronan is actually RK900. Markus is Carl’s adopted son. Connor and Ronan are Hank’s biological sons in this fic, and Cole never existed (I just feel that would add too much family drama to the mix). The teacher, Mr Collins, is Ben Collins from the game. I was also gonna name the school ‘CyberLife’, but then I thought that was stupid, so I named it Cyder Line, which is along the lines of it (still bad tho). I know originally that both Markus’ eyes were green, but I decided to leave the blue one in there because it's prettyyyyyyyy. They are all in highschool, so everyone's age is obviously younger, and that includes people like Hank and Gavin and whatnot. The only people I will leave with the same age will be the actual children in DBH (eg Alice, Emma, Zoe). 
> 
> I also wanted to explain why I made Connor unpopular in this fic, because we all know that if Connor was a real person we'd all want to be his friend. I just feel that Connor, though adaptive, can be quite awkward on his own. He's caught himself in many awkward conversations with other humans, that could make others feel uncomfortable. There will be more insight on his personality and aspirations later in the story.
> 
> Also, if you didn't realise, Daniel was the deviant in ‘The Hostage’. I was just curious how both Connor’s relationships would be like with the deviants he was built to catch. You can expect of them in the future!


	2. "Meeting The Crew" (Markus' P.O.V)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Markus’ first time in an actual school cafeteria, and in there he meets three of the strangest yet most interesting people he will ever know. There, they fill him in on everything he needs to know about their academy and it's social triangle, whilst Markus decides to judge on whether not he should of just continued to be homeschooled.

“So… are all chemistry classes at schools that boring?” Markus chuckled as North and him exited the lab for lunch. 

She looked at him strangely and shook her head.

“Sometimes they could be worse,” she told him, guiding both of them to the cafeteria.

Markus had been attached to North’s hip the whole day. And granted, it had only been a few periods, but he could already sense her tension as they made their way into the cafeteria. _Whatever,_ Markus shrugged, _we’ll warm up to each other eventually._

They made their way inside the cafeteria, and took a table for themselves.

“My friends are queuing up,” North explained to Markus, gesturing to the long lines of innumerable students carrying trays.

Markus nodded and pulled out his own lunch, which were chicken quesadillas alongside his own lemonade. Carl really was good at lunches. He cast a glance at North, who was staring longingly at Markus’ lunch, and taking an unhappy bite of her PB&J.

“So,” North started, her mouth full of food, “how do you like this place thus far?”

Markus considered her question.

“Well, it's different, that's for sure. I’ve heard tons of scary stories about high schools, and read enough novels to be quite intimidated by one, but so far it isn't so bad. I just have to get used to it, that's all.”

North nodded, tying her long, amber hair into a messy bun.

“Personally, I hate it,” she stated matter-of-factly. “And I can't wait to graduate to get out of this hell. I feel sorry for you, Markus.”

Then she took another wistful glance at the quesadilla Markus was holding in his hand. He sighed and held it out for her. North’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?” She gasped, pointing to herself as if she needed clarification.

Markus rolled his eyes and nodded.

North then reached out and took it without further insisting. Markus was both impressed and horrified at how fast she managed to eat it, but once she had finished it, her whole mood seemed to change. A sweet smile blessed her face, and Markus marvelled at how pretty she looked when she did smile. She should smile more.

“Markus, if you keep it up we could actually become good friends,” she said, nodding with approval. Her eyes then shifted to behind him. “And speaking of good friends…”

Markus turned to look behind him and saw two boys making their way over to the table, one of them who he knew vaguely, the other he had never seen before.

The guy who he had never seen before was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. He had short black hair, dark brown eyes and thick eyebrows. He was holding his tray out in front of him, and talking to his friend next to him before he spotted North who was gesturing him over. With a confused glance at Markus, he made his way over to the table.

The other boy, Markus knew. He was Simon. His new neighbor who had actually greeted him alongside his twin brother and their little sister. They had baked cookies and fruitcake to welcome them to Detroit, and whilst Carl had invited them in, Markus himself had chatted with Simon a bit. They had learnt the basics about each other, and got along quite quickly. Over the time period leading up to school, Simon and Markus would sometimes bump into one another and have their own exchanges. Yet, it was funny, since neither of them ever mentioned what school they would be attending, so it did come as a shock to when the two boys spotted each other.

“Markus!” Simon smiled, trotting up to Markus gleefully.

“Hey Simon,” Markus greeted, grinning too. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Wait, do you guys know each other?” North asked, rightfully confused, but not as much so as the other guy, who just stared with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips between his two friends and the mysterious newcomer.

“He's my new next door neighbour,” Simon explained. “You know how I told you that big, expensive mansion was finally sold to someone?”

Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome raised a curious eyebrow, and turned to Markus.

“Wow. You're family must be pretty rich,” he said as Markus smiled shyly. “I'm Josh, by the way.”

“Markus, pleasure to meet you,” he responded.

“Likewise.”

Markus noticed, that even though both Josh and Simon were lining up at the queue for lunch, only Josh had come back carrying a tray. Simon seemed to have his own lunchbox, pre-packed with what looked like a good variety of foods. He started to munch on a gingerbread cookie, and North perked up.

“Hmm… my guess is Emma,” she said, pointing to his cookie.

Josh shook his head.

“No way, that's definitely Daniel’s handiwork.”

“Are you kidding?” North asked, rounding on Josh as if what he just said was so absurd she couldn't even comprehend it. “You know Emma is the only ones who cuts her gingerbread cookies like stars! Daniel cuts them out like mini gingerbread men!”

Josh shook his head again, slowly as if he was dealing with a stubborn five year old.

“No, _Daniel_ cuts them out like stars, _Emma like love hearts_ , and _Simon_ cuts them out like mini gingerbread men.”

“What do you know?” North huffed indignantly.

“I know that.”

“Why you--”

“What are they talking about?” Markus asked curiously as Josh and North bickered heatedly.

Simon gave a fond chuckle.

“Oh, well, everyday I come to school with some sort of homemade treats, and North and Josh always try to guess which one of my siblings made it. If they guess correctly, they get to have one of them.”

Markus nodded, and glanced at the two, who were still in the midst of arguing.

“Can I play?” Markus asked as Simon nodded enthusiastically.

“For sure!”

“Am I allowed to choose you?”

“Yep!”

“Well, I'll choose you then,” Markus shrugged. “The cookies you baked when you came over to my house were by far the best cookies I've ever tasted, and those gingerbread stars look really good too.”

Simon blushed, trying and failing to suppress his beam.

“I'm really glad you liked it,” he squeaked, holding out a gingerbread star for Markus.

North and Josh stopped fighting almost immediately, and started to gape as Markus took the cookie with gratitude.

“That's bullshit!” She exclaimed pointing an accusing finger at Simon, who cheeks were still pink. “No way you made those cookies! You're just giving it to Markus because he's new and you’re a blushing puddle when it comes down to praise!”

Simon shook his head, smiling slowly but his blush intensifying. “No, I actually made these cookies.”

“Bullshit!”

“Simon, you don't have to lie to us,” Josh said, speaking up, but much more calmly then North.

“I'm not lying! I actually made them. I like to cut them out in stars, Daniel does the love hearts and Emma makes the mini gingerbread men.”

“There is no way that you don't like cutting your gingerbread into love hearts,” North groaned, defeated.

Simon sighed and held out two more cookies for Josh and North. North took it without question, but Josh looked at Simon, and only once Simon insisted, he took it.

“Thanks Simon,” Josh said gratefully. “You're a good guy.”

Meanwhile, Markus was trying to savour the deliciousness of the cookie that was melting in his mouth. The buttery goodness of Simon’s gingerbread stars was unfathomably tasty, and Markus wondered if Simon was _this_ good at every dish he made.

“Simon, your baking is amazing!” Markus marvelled. “You should open a bakery or something, because I bet you'd become famous for these.”

Simon turned bright red again, and before he could stutter a response, Josh spoke up for him.

“That's not the only thing Simon is good at. He's good at cooking _anything_. Give him a meal to cook and he'll do it, but ten times better.”

“U-Um, thank you Josh,” Simon said honestly, appearing sensitive to all these sudden compliments. “But Daniel is much better than me--”

“Hush, Simon! You're cooking is the most superior to anyone ever!” North said honestly albeit aggressively. “Now! Markus is new here! It's his first time actually coming to a school because he's been homeschooled all his life! He doesn't know how the social hierarchy of high school works at all. He doesn't know which teachers to watch out for. He doesn't know what _kids_ to watch out for. He's completely in the dark about everything this hell has to offer. So, it's time we educate him before our next class.”

Josh nodded his head.

“Fair enough.”

The group scanned the other tables, not knowing where to start. 

“Hey Markus,” North said, pointing to a large group of people crowded around a table, laughing, cracking jokes whilst others had tongues down each other's throats, “you see those guys over there?”

“I guess they're the guys who are way too out of my league,” Markus nodded.

“Correct. Remember that ‘social hierarchy’ I mentioned earlier, well _those_ , assholes sit at the top of it.”

“Hey, North, that's kinda unfair,” Josh sighed. “Some of them are nice.”

North just rolled her eyes at him, not bothering to try and argue.

“Whatever. But they mostly consist of arrogant jocks, girls who rather have bigger boobs than brains, and the mighty Prom King and Queen who just _love_ to sit on their high horse: Chloe Roland and Elijah-fucking-Kamski.”

North was gesturing resentfully at a beaming blonde girl, with dark eyeshadow and mascara, a low ponytail, and a guy with a dark man bun, an inquisitive expression, and was laughing to one of his mate’s jokes. He watched as he slung an arm intimately around the blonde, and kissed her forehead. Her smile widened in response.

Markus looked curiously between Chloe, Elijah and North, who still eyed them dangerously with a burning hatred.

“I'm guessing you don't like them?” Markus asked.

North huffed in response.

“Well, moving on from them,” Simon spoke up, now nodding his head at a bunch of mean-looking, sneering boys that ranged in height and weight, but all happened to wear a denim jacket of dark colour. “You really have to watch out for them. And I mean, _seriously_ watch out for them.”

Simon’s nostrils then flared, his lips turned into a thin line, and Markus saw him do something that (in about the couple weeks of knowing him) he would never imagine Simon do. He _glared_.

“I'm guessing… you don't like them either?” Markus spoke, trying to break the tension.

Simons eyes finally shifted to Markus, and they immediately softened, and he shook his head.

“No,” Simon admitted, his tone forcefully light. “Gavin and his gang are horrible to Daniel. I don't quite like people who pick on my family.”

Markus’ eyes widened, and now both him and Simon were glaring at the group of guys. Markus remembered Daniel, and how shy and jittery he was at his house. The only people he seemed to truly content with was Simon and (mostly) their little sister, Emma. 

He watched as the possible leader of their group, who was a brunette boy (Markus figured he was probably Gavin), and was undeservingly handsome in Markus’ opinion, strutted around, undermining others and ready to throw some hands without a moment's hesitation.

Now, Markus could understand why Daniel had such anxiety problems.

Markus patted Simon’s shoulder, and he could feel Simon’s tense muscles ease up as he did so, so he decided to leave his hand there. 

“Stop glaring, guys,” Josh whispered, even though Gavin’s group was far, far away from noticing them. “We don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Markus did as he was told, and eventually Simon did too, but North was gritting her teeth at the guys, ignoring Josh completely.

“Why? Gavin and his stupid gang of pigs walk over everyone who they deem inferior to them, and they get no punishment in return. Why don't we take a swing at them?”

Josh sighed.

“Oh c’mon, Josh!” She urged, and something told Markus this was not the first time they had this argument. “We are now _four_ handicapable people. We can take those fat jerks!”

When Josh looked at her doubtedly, and she rounded on Simon.

“Simon! Don't you want to protect your brother? We can do that now! Make sure they never touch Daniel again!”

Poor Simon looked conflicted between intrigue, hurt and guilt. Something told Markus he did want to stop them, but he wasn't the fighting type. He squeezed Simon’s shoulder, trying to offer some non-verbal support. The small smile that appeared on his face showed Markus he got it.

“Maybe another time, North,” Markus said. “It's my first day here. I don't want to be creating drama already.”

North looked like she wanted to continue arguing, but she didn't further press the matter.

“Now _those_ ones,” Josh said in a hushed tone, “are the people everyone avoids.”

Markus looked at a large table, where a few lone others were scattered across it, eating quietly and not talking or making eye contact with anyone else. 

He saw one dark-skinned guy who was muttering to himself and trying to avoid everyone's eye contact. 

He saw one guy wearing a cap, who fed most of his lunch to the pigeons. 

He saw a girl with dreadlocks writing in what appeared to be a notebook, instead of touching her tray.

He saw a brunette eating his lunch whilst occasionally performing some tricks with a coin.

He saw a bruised and beat up blonde who appeared to be talking to himself. He kept jumping up and down and laughing at nothing in particular, only to shrink back in at fear of nothing.

He then saw that Daniel was one of them. 

Markus cast a glance at Simon, who was looking over at his brother sadly. Simon caught his glance and shook his head.

“He thinks I do only ask him out of pity. He also says he doesn't want to ruin my social status,” Simon explained, gesturing to Daniel who was eating love heart-shaped cookies somberly. “It's no use.”

Markus decided not to put more salt in Simon’s wounds, so instead, he pointed discreetly at the scarred blonde who was jumping around in his seat and now singing to himself.

“Who's that?”

“That's Ralph,” North said. “Total fucking weirdo. Not even the losers at that table would be caught dead with him.”

“Why is he so… scratched up?”

“It's probably Gavin's doing,” Josh said, staring sympathetically at the crazed boy. “Besides that Connor Anderson kid, Ralph is his favourite punching bag.”

“I kind of feel bad for him,” Simon said. “What if all he really needed was a friend?”

“What do you want to do? Bake some homemade cookies and sing ‘Kumbaya?’ No thank you,” North said harshly.

They talked for a bit more after that. They discussed who were the biggest nerds in the school, and the teacher’s pets from experience. Who to hang out with, and who to absolutely avoid. Who you had to respect, and who you could (or should) blatantly ignore. How to react in some situations, or what to do. Even though Markus was briefed with a tour of the school and all its basic rules, this new set of social rules had him feeling really overwhelmed. But if that wasn't enough for him, the group moved onto the topic of another group entirely.

“Let's talk about the teachers,” Josh suggested.

“Mr Perkins is a bitch,” North said immediately. “Watch out for him, Markus.”

“I like Mr Miller,” Simon chirped. “His newborn son is so cute too.”

“Ms Chen is alright, and I guess so is Mr Falone, though he is kinda boring,” Josh nodded.

“Watch out for Ms Stern,” North warned again. “I _really_ don't like the vibes I get off her. She sometimes seems like a manipulative, controlling bitch.”

“ _Language,_ North,” Josh reminded nonchalantly.

“Sorry, _mother._ ” 

“Mr Brinkley is okay too, but he does like to talk a lot,” Simon said, continuing to inform Markus about the teachers.

“Also watch out for Mrs Cartland,” North said, making Markus feel quite discombobulated from all the quick info. “Rumour has it that she slept with 8 students here. It wouldn't surprise me if she did, all the boys can't stop ogling her.”

North scowled in disgust, as Josh scowled at her. Simon sighed as if this was normal. Markus turned to North inquisitively.

“Do you like _anyone_?” He asked.

“Of course I do!” She shot back, heatedly. “I like you guys.”

“Besides us,” Markus said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah! Uhh… I like Daniel, and Mr Fowler is alright… and, um…” she trailed off, which gave Markus enough information.

She was a tough cookie.

Before the conversation can continue, the bell rang, signalling that it was time for the last two periods of the day. The group had long, finished their lunches, but they cleaned up as much as they could before heading to the two large buildings that held different classes.

“Markus, what class do you have?” Simon asked, eyes lighting up with hope.

“Uhhh… Humanities and English, I think.”

Simon’s smile faltered. 

“That's a shame. I have English and then Biology. Hopefully we'll have a class tomorrow.”

“I have double music,” North said. 

“I have Humanities and Biology,” said Josh, his eyes then turning to Markus. “Looks like we'll have our first class together.”

Markus smiled hesitantly. He felt Josh was more reserved towards him then Simon and North, which he could understand to some point.

The group split up, and all in all, Markus felt as he made some new friends quite easily. Those three different people he felt he could work with, but yet, he didn't know much about them yet. 

Josh, who was quite hesitant towards him, and looked quite intimidating too. However, Markus got the feeling that he was a gentle giant despite his appearances, and seemed to be one of the only people not afraid to get on North’s nerves. He was quite a pacifist, in Markus’ opinion, and seemed like the type of guy who hated conflict. Which was fair enough.

There was North, who really did intrigue Markus more than she should of. To someone else's eyes she may of seemed like a hateful, drama-stirring bully, who had a thirst for some sort of violent justice towards others. But to Markus, he sensed that there was something else to her. She seemed like the most mysterious of all, and with some digging, he hoped that North would come to terms with him too.

There was Simon, the person he knew most about. He was genuinely really sweet, great at cooking and Markus couldn't help but try to make him happy whenever he wasn't, not that it was hard to do. He felt the most comfortable around Simon, and he reckoned it wasn't just because he knew him for the longest. Simon just seemed open and ready to talk about anything with Markus, and Markus was glad he was the one living next door to him, for they would be able to see each other the most.

With Cyder Line high school, that was a whole other thing on its own. He didn't quite know how to feel about high school yet. But, he was willing to give it a good chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mostly so you guys could come to terms with most of the characters, and the basic gist of school life. The Jericrew are also going to be a good part of Markus’ story. But don't worry, we will be delving into Markus’ home life sooner or later. What did you guys think of Josh, Simon and North? I love the Jericrew with all my heart, so I hope I'll do them justice in this. Kara’s chapter is next so stay tuned!


	3. "The Walk Back" (Kara's P.O.V.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara Axca has always been an uncomplicated, ordinary girl, just breezing through life as a whole. She knew that everyone had some issues going on in their personal life, like her boyfriend, Luther, who’s father was anything but kind to him, and Ralph, the most tortured boy at school, who Kara can't seem to get away from. Kara has her own problems too, but they aren't big, and are quite minuscule compared to some others. However, when she witnesses something quite immoral on the walk back from school, she's about to realise her whole view on life will shift.

Kara secretly thanked the lord above that school was over quick and cleanly. She really wanted to get home and have a nice, creamy, hot chocolate to warm up her mood. She figured most people would want the same, and as she got her school bag out of her locker her eyes sought out Luther.

He wasn't too hard to find, since he was one of the tallest people in the school, despite it including juniors and seniors. She strolled up to him and took his large hand in hers.

“Wanna come by my place tonight? My mom’s been dying to see you again,” Kara smiled at her boyfriend.

Luther raised his eyebrows.

“I saw her two days ago,” he said.

Kara shrugged and giggled.

“You know how much my parents love you. You're like a son to them. They like you more than me!” 

Now Luther was giggling. Kara knew he was going to say yes to her before she even asked it (Luther never said no to Kara), but she still felt overly giddy.

Before long, they were miraculously walking hand-in-hand, away from Cyder Line school without any incidents. Luther and Kara had known each other since 7th Grade, but she always thought Luther looked scary and brooding. She never knew what a gentle giant he was until they were paired up for a science project, and slowly, but surely, they became good friends, and not too soon after, more. They've been dating for about three years now, and Kara had never loved or cared for someone as much as him. Which was why he was over at her place a lot, and also since Luther and Kara lived only about half a mile away from each other. Other than that, Luther hated life at home. His ‘father’ wasn't the nicest at all, and Kara had only met him once. She wanted to protect Luther from him, but she didn't know how to. Yet.

But when they were together, all the bad seemed to go away. They talked about the classes they had, what they thought about the teachers, and what was to come tomorrow. After about a few more minutes of chatting, they were at their crossroads. 

_Cyder Line Elementary_.

The elementary school was where most students from Cyder Line High had attended when they were little. Luther and Kara normally walked home this way, and would split ways at the school. Luther would go down to Forest Lane, on the left, and Kara would go down Draders Grove, on the right. But since they were both walking to Kara’s house, they turned right. 

As they were walking past the elementary school, they saw little kids run into their parent's arms with gleeful faces as the first day of school ended. They watched as older siblings from their academy picked up their younger ones with anticipation to hurry home. And they watched as other kids played together, shrieking as they were getting caught in a game of tag, or giggling uncontrollably as they role played. It was a very sweet and innocent scene that Kara and Luther were blessed with every day as they walked back from school.

But, strangely enough, one girl stood out to the crowd. 

She looked around the age of seven or eight, she had brown hair tied into a ponytail, round doe eyes and she was small. But it wasn't because of her height, it was the way she presented herself. She resembled that of a kicked puppy, looking nervously around in shivers, a sadness in her eyes that made Kara’s heart ache despite herself.

Kara didn't know why her eyes immediately were drawn to her. She just looked so lost. She wondered if she had had a bad day at school.

She turned to Luther, who hadn't even noticed the little girl, and was walking a little in front of Kara. Kara slowed to a stop and turned back to see the little girl, but she was gone, and instead there was Jerry, who smiled at her. He was carrying a satchel around his shoulders and handing out newspapers and letters to the parents and older kids walking by. He jogged his way over to Kara and Luther, who had long ago realised that Kara had become distracted.

“Hello, Kara and Luther!” Jerry chirped in his usual, cheery tone. “How are you fellas?”

Kara and Luther immediately smiled back in return. It was impossible not to smile back when it came down to Jerry.

Jerry was that person at school that everyone loved, because he just loved everyone back in return. He was always super bubbly and encouraging, and was one of the few people that couldn't care less about where they stood on the social hierarchy. He just chatted with everyone, and everyone chatted back. Heck, even Gavin’s group of punks gave him the benefit of the doubt. And, since Jerry worked around the school as a newspaper boy from day to day, he and Kara did grow to have some sort of friendship, which Kara couldn’t say she minded.

“We’re great, Jerry,” she replied, her thoughts about the little girl already forgotten. “How were you today? How was your classes? I didn't have any periods with you.”

“I know! I didn't see you at all today! What a shame. However, I can't wait to get back into the nice, daily school routine.”

He glanced at the small kids who were left exiting the elementary school with adoration. 

“I sure did miss this place.”

Kara had known since meeting him that Jerry was very fond of kids. He was an only child, but he told her he had always longed for a little brother or sister. Turned out, that the kids loved him back too, just as anyone would.

“Hey Jerry!” A blond girl in a pink and blue raincoat, rosy cheeks and a bright smile called out.

“Hello Zoe!” Jerry waved, turning to make her way over to her, but he stopped midway in remembering Luther and Kara.

“I'll see you two again tomorrow, have a nice date!” Jerry bid.

Kara and Luther said farewells and continued on their ‘five-minute-more’ journey to her house.

“He's probably one of the only people who like school these days,” Luther marvelled out loud.

“Hmm?”

“Jerry.”

“Well, why wouldn't he like school?”

Luther looked at her incredulously, and then decided to laugh.

“What?” Kara frowned, genuinely confused, as they they turned on her street.

“Well, for starters you have our teachers, which most of them aren't very good, and they teach really boring and useless stuff, that we'll probably never use in our futures.”

“That's not their fault though, it's the school system and they just have to roll with it.”

“Maybe. We can agree to disagree that most of them don't really try to engage us in the topic they're teaching, though. And the amount of homework just piles and piles as the years go on, it's definitely not ideal.”

“But it is essential for learning, right?”

“Look at Finland! No homework, four hour school days, ‘collaboration over competition’ and boom! Their mental health is thriving. Their country is one of the most educationally advanced in the world.”

“Ok, so… the educational part of schools other than Finland isn't fun?” Kara smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's not just that! Have you seen the way some of our classmates treat our other classmates?”

Kara blinked.

“It's horrible, Kara! Did you know what Garisha Knowles did to that Lucy Kleitens in seventh grade? Or what Frederico Lavlings did to poor North Wardisen last year. Or how about Ralph? Did you know what Gavin Reeds did to Ralph this morning?”

Kara eyes widened, as she blushed in embarrassment and shook her head. Luther sighed, his eyes softening, and put an arm around her.

“You're so naive, Kara,” he clucked, kissing the top of her head as they neared her house.

Kara didn't have time to respond when she heard the loud and familiar voice of her next door neighbour.

“Hello, Kara!” Rose called gleefully as she watered her bright and blooming heathers in front garden. “And hello to you too, Luther.”

Kara beamed and waved at her.

“Hi Rose, how's Adam?” She asked politely.

Rose had lived at that house way before Kara had moved in at the age of eight. Rose had lived there since she was a little girl too, now. And now she had a son to share it with. She had dark skin, but she wasn't as dark as Luther. Her hair, though, was oak brown, and very curly. However from what Rose had said to her, it was a pain to maintain. She had always been a super sweet neighbour to Kara, and over the years, the two had grown super close. Adam, however, didn't like Kara as much as she would like him to. He didn't attend Cyder Line high, and was homeschooled by his mum. Kara didn't know what he thought of that. She wondered if it got lonely.

“Oh, you know. He's playing video games. All that boy stuff,” she sighed.

“Well, tell him we said hello,” Kara said, waving her off. 

“Will do, sweetie,” Rose called back.

Kara then unlocked her front door, and opened it for Luther.

“Just beware, my mum is going to weep with joy when she sees I've brought you home,” Kara grinned.

Luther chuckled.

“I'm not going to complain. I love your mom.”

~~~

Second day of school always seemed to be ironically worse than the first day. Don't get her wrong, Kara wasn't one to hate school. She actually enjoyed it for the most part. She wasn't too popular. She wasn't too unpopular. She had some friends. Had a boyfriend. Had a nice personal life. Had decent grades. She was quite ordinary, and she was content with that. If she could breeze through high school, that would be totally fine with her.

But there was one little inconvenience that she would rather avoid.

“Hey, Kara!” A familiar voice called from behind her as she tried to snake her way to fourth period.

She stopped dead in her tracks, knowing she was caught, and feeling guilty for feeling that way in the first place.

She turned around to come face to face with a smiling Ralph Wardens.

“Hello, Ralph,” Kara said, smiling tightly. “Where are you off to?”

“Ralph has fourth period with you, Kara,” Ralph giggled, as if she forgot the sky was blue and needed a reminder.

Kara did everything in her power not to sigh in disappointment. 

“That's great, Ralph,” she mumbled as they made their way over.

Ralph trotted next to her happily, his eyes glinting, oblivious to her feelings. Kara glanced at him, and couldn't help but uncomfortably take in the deep red scars across his smiling face. She immediately felt pity for him for the millionth time.

Ralph was definitely an odd one, to say the least. Talking, laughing, yelling, mumbling, singing to himself. He even referred to himself in third person. If you were to see someone like that, you would draw to a few conclusions, at least one including the following: a drug addict, a drug dealer, a stalker, a homeless kid, an abused kid or just simply _mentally unstable._ Because of this, Ralph was probably the most unpopular person in the school. There were rumours saying he’s into child porn. Rumours he stalked Friday Hilliard in eighth grade. Rumours that he tried to kill himself, hence the scars on his face, and why he was blind in one eye. Rumours his dad murdered his mum, and had tried to murder him, giving him his scars, and ran away with a mistress, leaving him behind. Rumours that he didn't have parent. Twisting, dark, scary rumours. 

Kara thought he was just lonely.

And she was probably the only person in the whole school who treated him somewhat decently. Others would tease him, laugh at him, avoid him, ignore him or outright abuse him. Some even pretended he never existed. Not even the teachers cared about him what happened to him. 

She just wanted to be polite. And with that politeness came Ralph claiming they were ‘very good friends’, and upon seeing her, wanted to be joined to her hip. She tried to stay clear of him on most days, because he did make her quite uneasy, especially how bipolar he could be. One moment, giddy with happiness, the next in a blind rage. It was a bit terrifying.

But no matter how unstable Ralph was, he was still a person. And she had forced herself to be cautious with him, all the while treating him decently.

“Do you like Maths? Ralph doesn't like maths. Ralph likes horticulture,” Ralph said, trying to stir some sort of conversation up, however he had always started of conversations with her with stating he liked horticulture, and Kara had heard it over a trillion times.

However, she just smiled and played along.

“I like horticulture too,” she informed, knowing it was going to be a long day.

~~~

“Don't you ever just want to get away?” Luther asked her as they to walked back from school.

“Hmm? Get away?” Kara asked, her full attention turning to Luther, who shifted his gaze towards the sky.

“Yeah. I mean, don't you ever feel too small and cramped here? Like, you do too many mistakes, or the weight of expectations are always lain on you, and you know you're never going to reach them? And you know you're going to disappoint people, so you just want to quit. Run away someplace where no one can put weight on you. Restart there, and live more, I don't know, _free?”_

Kara nodded slowly, and squeezed his hand.

“Yeah, I get what you mean, we all get like that sometimes,” Kara said, a worrying expression crossing her face. _What did Zlatko do to him once he left her house yesterday? ___

__“I'd like to go to Canada,” Luther said. “But obviously after school finishes. I heard it's a beautiful place, with even more beautiful people.”_ _

__“Well, maybe we'll go check it out after we finish school,” Kara offered._ _

__They managed to get to the elementary school right when the kids started to file out for home time. Kara looked around to spot Jerry conversing with a group of second graders. She wondered how he got there that fast._ _

__It was also the spot where Kara and Luther parted ways. She asked him if he wanted to come by her place again today, but he told her his father would not be pleasant once he returned, so they had to part ways._ _

__As Kara walked along the perimeter of the school, her eyes coincidentally spotted the small brunette girl, who still looked downright miserable. She stood out in the sea of happy kids, but she seemed impossibly more frightened as she walked towards the exit, like it was her doom._ _

__Kara thought that maybe she needed some cheering up. She was contemplating whether or not she should go over there and ask what was wrong, when a pale, beefy man with the same brown hair came towards her. Kara knew right away that he was her father, since they shared a few physical traits, however, the way they presented themselves were the polar opposites. Whilst he looked aggressive and ready to take something out on someone, his eyes glistening maliciously, she seemed to shrink and squirm under the shadow of him, looking everywhere but his eyes. Kara also noticed how her father wasn't walking straight, and didn't seem to be all there._ _

__Kara saw the little girl mutter something to him, and in response he took in a large inhale, his eyes burning with an oppressed fury as it glanced at her wrist. He then took her gruffly by the arm and almost dragged her to their car, which was an old green colour. He walked pass Kara in doing so, and was muttering something like, “you can't even keep one fucking thing…”, and the little girl looked dangerously close to crying. And upon the close proximity, Kara could spot a brownish-purple bruise at the base of her neck._ _

__Kara knew she would mind her own business, and just continue down the street to her home, but something made her watch and observe the exchange with an uneasy feeling in her gut._ _

__The father shoved the girl in the back seat, and sat himself down in front, slamming the doors shut. And as soon as they were closed, he rounded on her and started screaming at her. The girl started to cry and Kara wondered what she did that was so bad to earn a reaction like this from her dad._ _

__But then, the father curled up a fist and punched his daughter square in the jaw._ _

__The impact of the punch made the girl’s head propel back, and a new, fresh bruise bloomed across her jawline, and blood was pouring out from her nose. The girl was sobbing now, and the father didn't seem to have calmed down._ _

__With what looked like a frustrated sigh, he turned on his car, pulled out from his parked space, and started to speed off crookedly in the left direction._ _

__Kara was planted on the spot, her eyes wide with shock._ _

____He punched her.__ _ _

___That father abused his child._ _ _

___She was bleeding._ _ _

___What's he going to do to her when they get home?_ _ _

__Kara knew this was none of her business, and she should just walk back home and forget about it. Each family had their own problems, and that wasn't her concern._ _

___But he harmed her._ _ _

__She would just be getting herself into more trouble if she got involved. And with school, Luther and her own life at home, she really didn't want to complicate things._ _

___He hurt her. ____ _

____She didn't even know the situation of things. She didn't even know that girl or that man. She had no right to interfere with their relationship._ _ _ _

_____You saw him punch his child._ _ _ _ _

____As unshed tears pricked her grey eyes and threatened to fall, Kara made up her mind._ _ _ _

____She couldn't just breeze past this._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, I tried to give Kara the same aloof, naive vibe that she had when she got reset, but she's still quite motherly. I also picked up from her interactions with Ralph, that she's kinda uneasy around him, so I tried to showcase that too? But to those who love Ralph, don't worry! They'll definitely be more of him in the future. At first I was going to make Jerry unpopular, but I wanted to change it up a bit. I made Connor’s whole clique unpopular, Markus has kinda got a solid squad to have his back, and Kara is in the middle grounds. I want her social life to be different to Connor and Markus’, so I made Jerry the guy everyone loves. Because, let's be real, everyone would love Jerry if he were real. I also made Luther her boyfriend because… why not? They're cute! Find out how Kara intervenes with Todd and Alice in chapter 6!


	4. "The Hostage" (Connor's P.O.V.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If anything is going to be better for Connor in sophomore year, it's being one step closer to becoming a detective for the DPD, his dream job. Surely, Gavin isn't a big enough threat to him since he's definitely not the only victim of him on the school, but as he witnesses Gavin and his crew picking on someone else, he knows it's only going to go south for him.

“Are you going to tell me how your day was or what?” Connor’s dad asked disinterestedly.

Roman looked at Connor and gestured for him to answer, and then continued to pick at his veggies and roast chicken. They were having takeout from _Chicken Feed_ , a place where the boys were highly fond of. Besides, they always had takeout a day before ‘Food Doomsday.’ A very special tradition in the Anderson household.

“We haven't learned much at school. We've just started revising on our biology and history classes. As well as English and Social Studies, they've introduced us to the new topics we will be learning this term with a pre-test, as they do every year. I have a new Spanish teacher called Mrs Gonzalez. I do reckon she's an improvement to our old one, who seemed to have a memory-loss problem.”

“And how are your friends?” Hank asked.

Connor hesitated.

“They're doing ok,” Connor said. He wasn't technically lying. Everyone he knew so far was doing ok. It didn't matter if they were his friends.

“And how about that Gavin prick? Is he giving you any more trouble?” There was a tinge of protectiveness in his voice that made Connor want to spill everything. But he managed to convince himself that he was overreacting. He could deal with this by himself. There was no reason to worry them again. High school was temporary.

“He hasn't done anything extreme,” Connor settled, deciding that was the best answer.

He avoided Ronan’s questioning gaze, and could tell that his father didn't buy all of it. He decided to quickly change the subject. 

“How was your work today? Did you know that Mr Fowler is also a cop in your department?”

Hank glared at Connor disbelievingly and Ronan laughed.

“Yeah, he's the captain,” Hank answered, deadpan.

Connor felt himself receding, as he said smally, “oh.”

“And dad and Jeffrey have known each other since they were kids!” Ronan exclaimed, smacking Connor on the back of the head lightly.

“Last time I checked, you two weren't of first name terms, so that's still ‘Mr Fowler’ for you,” Hank sniffed gruffly. “And stop playing with your veggies and eat them, Ronan.”

Connor’s eyes drifted to his father’s lieutenant badge that was lying on the dining table next to his car keys. Hank noticed, and sighed.

“Take it from me, kiddo. Don't become an officer. It's a strenuous job filled with dickheads with sticks up their ass.”

Connor smiled and his eyes lit up. He was finally in his element.

“But isn't it cool to be one? Like investigating murders, finding out who did it by analysing evidence, interrogating people, helping out the victims or witnesses and finally putting the guilty and dangerous behind bars?”

Ronan snickered.

“Your youngest son has a thing for murders. How do you feel about that, dad?”

Hank’s glare shut Ronan up, but they immediately softened when they returned back to Connor.

“Once I graduate high school, I'll become a police officer, and then we can be partners and crime, for real this time, dad,” Connor said with determination.

When Connor was little, around where he just learned how to walk, was around the time when Hank was just elected as Lieutenant, the youngest one there ever was in the DPD. Hank was more free back then, and didn't have to bear the burden of raising two boys by himself. He and Connor used to play imaginary games of cops and robbers, and Connor was always the cop. Sometimes, Ronan would even join in and be the criminal that Hank and Connor had to stop. Connor couldn't remember a time he was happier. After the game, he would always give his dad a toothy grin and tell him they were and always will be partners. And then would proceed to make Hank pinky promise that.

But that was before they mom left.

Now, Hank just smiled softly and reached over to ruffle Connor’s hair. Whether that meant his dad believed in him, or his dad was just humouring him, he didn't know, but before long, Hank stood up, proclaiming that his meal needed a little more edge. He walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. Which probably meant it was the latter, because it was Hank’s third one that day.

Connor's heart plummeted.

~~~

Roman dropped Connor off at school with the minimal of taunts, which Connor was relieved for. But before departing, he made sure to quickly remind him that tonight was ‘Food Doomsday.’ 

He made his way to his locker without any contact with Gavin and his cronies (thankfully) and scanned what classes he would have today. He inhaled sharply when he saw he would have a double period of Legal Justice, which means he had Mrs Stern. He found himself quite nervous.

By the time it was time for Legal Justice, Connor was already seated at the back of the classroom. The classes started to slowly file in, and it was quite disheartening to see many of the popular students, like Chloe Ramtosa, Elijah Kamski and Traci Warren. His heart sank even lower as Gavin Reeds strutted in, seconds away from being late.

Then Ms Amanda Stern entered the classroom, and Connor’s posture immediately straightened.

She had one arm around her satchel, was wearing spotless white clothes of choice, which made her dark skin stand out even more. To give her more of an intimidating approach, she always had her hair twisted into a tight, braided bun that seemed to pull at her strict facial features. Connor had never seen her with another hairdo. The class quietened tremendously, as Amanda’s dark eyes scanned each and every individual, looking for changes, for disappointments, for potential. Her eyes finally landed on Connor, and they hardened. Connor would consider it resignment. He didn't consider it hope. Maybe, it was something of a solemn recognition, but Connor still couldn't control the butterflies in his stomach.

“Good morning, class,” Amanda said softly, though the whole class heard her clearly. “It's lovely to see some familiar faces, and some new ones. I hope you all have enjoyed your holidays, but without further ado, welcome to Legal Justice class.”

With that, Connor quietly albeit attentively worked through the work Amanda had set out for them, and paid extra attention to her lectures, even taking notes at every second thing she said. Amanda hadn't personally addressed him once, but, to be fair, she hadn't personally addressed anyone, unless it was someone who had their hand up to answer a question. Connor put his hand up many times, as an attempt to try and get some advice out of her, but nothing so far.

Finally, when the double period ended, Connor was just finishing highlighting the basic rules to the code of conduct, when Amanda strolled breezily over to him.

 _This is it,_ Connor panicked as she walked even closer to him through his peripheral vision.

“Tell me about your holidays, Connor,” Amanda said, leaning on a nearby desk.

“Um,” Connor stuttered dumbly, “I just stayed around in Detroit, but that's okay. Gave me a chance to relax before school started up again.”

_Why did he say the exact same thing he said to Daniel? Amanda isn't going to be impressed with that lame answer. That was so stupid!_

Before he could get a chance to try and make his holidays sound cooler than they actually were, Amanda smiled politely. She then put a heavy hand on Connor’s shoulder, and Connor knew the small talk was just about forgotten.

“Don't come short this year, Connor,” she said, very seriously. “I see great potential in you and I do believe you can achieve your dreams given the right amount of growth for you. _Don't_ disappoint me, and you'll get just about anything you wish to achieve.”

Connor gulped and nodded.

Unlike most of the people of today, Amanda saw him for him. There wasn't any sadness in her eyes like his father's, or inferiority like Ronan. There wasn't hatred like Gavin, or disgust like Mr Perkins. There wasn't resignation like Daniel or pity like Chloe Ramtosa and the rest of the school. Even though he was quite terrified of letting Amanda down, it was a refreshing boost he needed to get himself to work up to his goal. And that's exactly what he wanted.

He thought about his dream to be a cop. To work side by side with Hank Anderson. To have Ronan look at him like anything other than gum that won't unstick to the bottom of his soles. He wanted Gavin to regret ever bullying him. He wanted kids like him to be heard and not looked down upon. He wanted his dad to hear him again. 

Determination now ran through his veins.

He wasn't going to disappoint _anyone_ ever again.

~~~

Connor hoped he could get through lunch time without any drama. But, like most days, his hopes were dashed.

He was just getting his lunch, steering clear of the people who had large groups of friends that will probably earn him pitying looks he definitely was not in the mood for. He steered clear of his brother, who was laughing loudly with his friends, without a care in the world. He steered clear of the teachers and staff, who were probably bitching about any student they could from where they were. But, in all honesty, there was only one group of people he really wanted to avoid. But they weren't here.

He walked over to the table of fellow loners, and placed his tray down. He had to remember that tonight was ‘Food Doomsday’, which was probably more celebrated in the Anderson household then Christmas, Halloween and New Years combined. It other words, it was a big day.

He looked around some more and realised that Daniel wasn't around either. And if Gavin’s group and Daniel were missing, the result wouldn't be good. Connor convinced himself to stay out of it, but the universe had other plans.

As he was walking back to his locker, he saw them. Gavin was yelling something at the blond boy, who was cowering like a scared kitten from the group. His face was red with rage, and his blue eyes were dangerously close to crying. Then Gavin told him something and immediately went to punching him right in the jaw. Daniel propelled backwards, and blood started leaking from his nose. Gavin's gang gathered around him, holding Daniel in his place. He was a hostage. And Gavin didn't look anywhere near finished. 

Connor looked around uncomfortably. No one was around. And those who were ignored it and looked the other direction. Mr Perkins walked past, but also ignored the situation (Connor wouldn't expect anything else from him).

As Gavin grinned and took another blow at Daniel, Daniel’s eyes met Connor’s, and communicated one clear message: _help_.

Connor knew he was going to regret this.

His feet took off before his brain could decide the most logical option. 

Gavin reared his arm back, aiming to take another shot at Daniel’s face, when Connor came in and pushed him violently to the side.

Gavin fell over and everyone was planted to the spot, staring at Connor with wide eyes. Even Connor wasn't sure what to do. Finally, Gavin slowly got up.

“Well, well, well,” Gavin snarled as he picked himself up. As he turned around, Connor could see a long cut along his cheek. “Come to save your boyfriend, have you?”

With that, Gavin's fist connected with Connor's face, and he fell back against one of his much larger friends, who held him against his will. Daniel tried to stand, but he was held down by a much fatter man, who just had to sit on his weak body, and no matter how hard Daniel struggled or cried out, he found himself in too much pain, with too much drained energy, and no one was coming to help them. Gavin tsked.

“You could've just stayed out of this,” he said, wagging a mocking finger at Connor. “But I feel like you like coming to get beat by me. Tell me, what’s stopping from telling your brother about me, Connor? Or your father?”

There was a tone in Gavin’s voice that made Connor pause. Gavin was actually curious. He was curious why Connor hadn't done anything about him when he clearly could of. Gavin won't admit how frightened he is of his family, but it did show in his anger towards him.

“I don't owe you anything,” Connor said without properly thinking it through, “especially not an answer as simple as you.”

Gavin’s face hardened and Connor immediately regretted not bullshitting his way through. When Gavin punched him in the face again, he then took some blows to his chest and lower body, where Gavin normally attacked. Connor had assumed he hadn't wanted Connor’s bruises to be visible and questioned. But now, due to his defiance, Gavin didn't give a shit where he punched. Connor took a hard punch to the cheek, another uppercut to his jaw, and a fist to his nose, which started to bleed. It hurt, a lot. 

He heard Daniel yelling his name faintly from near him, and Gavin and his friends taunting him, and his hearing was fuzzy. He opened his eyes only for them to snap shut in anguish as he was beat again. But he could tell that his vision was getting blurry too. Maybe he had a black eye, or two black eyes… 

_What was happening?_

A punch to the gut.

_Why did Gavin hate him so much?_

A blow to the head.

_Why wasn't anyone doing something?_

A kick in the shins.

_Why couldn't he move?_

A scratch to the eye.

_Why couldn't he do anything…?_

“Stop!” 

And it did.

“Let him go.”

It was a female’s voice, Connor could tell from that much. Maybe it was a teacher?

“Let go of them,” the girl ordered.

No, she sounded too young to be a teacher. Who was she?

“Stay out of this, this is none of your business,” Gavin growled as Connor tried to open his eyes.

At least he had one new revelation: he _definitely_ had two black eyes. He could hardly see anything. But he did see a blob with a shock of blond that just bordered his line of sight, with another larger blog of colours sitting on top of it. He assumed that was Daniel. He saw Gavin a little clearer since he was right in front of him, but he looked irritatedly distracted. He saw other insignificant blobs that gathered around, which were definitely Gavin’s brainless minions. But he still couldn't see the girl from which the voice was coming from. She was somewhere behind him.

“Gavin, I said stop. Let them both go, if not I'll tell someone. And they'll definitely listen to me no matter who it is,” the voice said, calmly but sternly.

Why did that voice sound so familiar to Connor? He knew that voice… personally too… 

But then, something amazing happened. The arms holding him hostage slackened and let Connor freely drop to the ground in a bloody mess. The guy holding Daniel at bay got off of him. The guy’s started to walk away, and Connor thought the torture was over until someone grabbed him roughly by the hair. He already knew who it was before they spoke.

“Your girlfriend may of saved your pitying-ass this time around,” Gavin sneered in his ear, “but don't think for a second I won't forget this.”

It sounded like there was more he wanted to say, but he hesitated and finally let him go, giving Daniel (who yelped in pain and hugged himself) a kick as he walked by.

Connor lay flat on his back and stared up at the sky which was sprinkled with greying clouds. The clouds were slowly moving in the direction of the wind, and his eyes followed them. He felt he could sleep right then and there… and he was surely about to… 

Then a face appeared.

“Are you alright?” The girl said poshly, her electric blue eyes gazing down at him kindly. For once, they weren't full of pity, but concern.

“Are you an angel?” Connor slurred dumbly. “Am I dead yet?”

She giggled, and he knew that giggle.

“Hardly,” she said.

Then his eyesight adjusted to her face, and he sat upright suddenly, which hurt his back quite a lot. He winced and cried out, and she slowly eased him to lean on a nearby wall of the school gym.

“Don't do that,” she scolded. “Of course you're going to hurt if you do that.”

Connor took a good look at her, or, a good as look as he could. Her blue eyes scanned him over, standing out because of her dark eye shadow, her lips were pursed with lip gloss, and her low ponytail secured her blond hair from being swept up in the wind. It was clear who she was, but Connor still couldn't believe she was his saviour. Considering who she and he were, and where they stood on the social hierarchy, and their awkward childhood, Connor would reckon she would be the last person to help him out.

But there she was, helping him out.

“Chloe,” he sighed, looking up at her.

She smiled.

“Yeah, it's been a while since we talked,” she admitted.

 _Yeah, like around ten years,_ Connor thought, but kept to himself.

“Come on, we need to get you and your friend to a nurse,” she decided, stealing a worried and resigned glance at Daniel, who tried to get up even though his legs were surely not cooperating with him, and fell down again.

Chloe sighed, and Connor knew this was going to be a hard task for her alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…. Chloe! She's going to be playing a fair role in Connor’s arc. You'll discover more about her and Connor's relationship the more you get into this. And plot twist: Daniel is the hostage here. Kinda wanted to reverse some roles I'm this story and see what happens lol. Also, Richard Perkins is a thing! He's not going to be a good thing, but he is a teacher at the school. And for anyone who likes Gavin: he's going to be a huge dickhead in this story (and especially in Connor’s POV). But, I am planning on delving deeper into his character and see why he would have these urges for Connor, because everyone's has something redeeming (maybe except Amanda) and triggering to why they act the way they do. Anyways, next chapter is Markus!


	5. "Settling In" (Markus' P.O.V)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus has come to realise the full extent of the difference between homeschooling and public schooling. It's brilliant and horrible at the same time. For one, he seemed to be liking North, Simon and Josh more and more with each passing day. But on the other hand, grumpy teachers, evil bullies and general unfairness lurk the corridors of Cyder Life High. Plus, Markus was hoping since his social life was changing so much, his private life at home would to. To his dismay, it hasn't.

After about only three days at school and Markus had came to the conclusion that this whole experience was very weird compared to being homeschooled. The classes were so big, and only one teacher was there to attend to all 25 or so students. Not to mention, how horrible some people were. And he wasn't talking about just the students, but the staff too. There were also good things about school, great things actually. Like the normality of it all, the business, and Markus’ personal favourite: the canteen. North had shown him all the wonders of buying junk food, and although it did make you feel bloated, you couldn't get enough of the stuff. Markus did remember North quoting something along the lines of: “Why in hell would you need drugs to get high when you've got Pringles?”

With all the hustle and bustle of school, Markus was glad he could finally catch the bus back home with Simon. It was normally Simon, him and Josh (North’s mother always came to pick her up), but Josh always got off at the second stop to catch the train the rest of the way back. So it was mostly just him and Simon.

As soon as they got off the bus, they were presented with the familiar yet very new neighborhood. Lined with trees of sunkissed maroon, orange and gold, the streets were also littered with leaves falling of every colour. Black lampposts gleamed in the late afternoon and every house appeared to be fairly identical, yet so full of character and age, it was hard to tell.

Simon and Markus started to make their way down, chatting animatedly about the season. Markus then looked around in question.

“Hey, Simon? Mind if I ask you something that may be a really dumb question?” Markus asked.

“Hmm? Sure, go ahead.”

“Where's Daniel? Wouldn't he be taking the same bus as us?”

“Oh,” Simon asked, his eyes twinkling with something unknown as he laughed. “Why would that be a dumb question, Markus?”

Markus exhaled, and let out a tired grin.

“I don't know.”

“Well, he normally catches the late bus, because he wants to pick up Emma from the nearby primary school,” Simon answered. “I always offer to pick her up or tag along with him. But he insists. I think it also has something to do with how he doesn't want be around so many people on the bus either.”

They were right near their houses now, only a few feet away.

“It’s not fair how people treat him there. I mean, I haven't exactly seen it, but with all the rumours about everyone, and even the stuff I hear that goes down behind backs is not even discreet! And no one is doing anything about it,” Markus said, shaking his head in disgust. “No one is doing anything.”

Simon stopped walking, and Markus later did too, turning back to Simon in surprise. At first Markus though it was because both of them had reached their destination, and were at the front of their houses. But Simon had his sky blue eyes trained on him curiously, and it was if he was deep in thought. Markus swallowed uncomfortably. _Was there something he said?_

“What?” he blurted.

Simon immediately snapped out of his gaze, blinking profusely, and his cheeks bloomed a brilliant shade of crimson.

“H-Huh?” Simon stuttered dumbly.

“You were staring at me… was there something on my face?” Markus asked, pointing to himself as he felt his own cheeks begin to heat.

Simon shook his head quickly.

“N-No! It's just…” he started, that brilliant blush not fading in the slightest. His eyes then met Markus’, and Markus felt the butterflies in his stomach before it even happened. “I have a good feeling about you, Markus. A really good feeling.”

Markus felt himself smile automatically (even though he had no clue what that meant), and a whole new warmth flush down his whole body, but before he could respond to Simon, he was already at his front door.

“Bye Markus! See you tomorrow!” Simon squeaked, obviously flustered before opening and closing the door of his house. And just like that, Markus was standing on the street with nothing but a tingly feeling at the pit of his stomach. The smile was still on his face when he entered his own house, where he could see the studio lights on, meaning his father was probably in there.

He dropped his bag near the front door and set off to the studio. Riches of every artsy activity could be seen in the living room. Every object in the place had totally transformed this ‘new’ house and made it so much more homely that Markus hardly ever felt homesick. From a bronze piano, to a placid chess board in an alcove overlooking the garden, to a tray of all sorts of whiskeys near the velvet couch, to bookshelves lining the oak walls of the place, to a literal life-sized stuffing of a giraffe, well, it was peculiar, but it was what Markus identified as home.

He made his way to the art studio, where he found his father doing yet but another gorgeous painting of bright pinks, oranges and yellows of a girl. The studio was cluttered with papyrus, posters, old and abandoned artworks, canvases and dirty paint brushes that made the whole scenery earn that much more life.

Upon hearing Markus enter, Carl looked up from his painting that he seemed captivated in, and smiled at Markus with wrinkles near his eyes.

“Hello Markus,” he said gruffly.

“Hey Carl,” Markus grinned, sitting near a stool.

“How was school?” Carl asked.

“I still need to get used to it, I think,” Markus nodded. “But I've met some pretty awesome people. One of them lives next door. Y’know that blonde boy that came by with cookies when we just settled in, but not the quiet one. The other talkative one. And then there's this girl, and she's really--”

“Really what?” A loud voice boomed from behind him, making Markus flinch.

Leo appeared at the door of the studio, not really walking in, but leaning on the doorframe cockily.

“How about _my_ first day at work, dad? Ever give a shit about that?” Leo said, fixing his glare on Carl.

Leo was Markus’ step brother, but they were nowhere near as close as brothers were supposed to be. Leo hated him, and Markus hated him right back. Carl had adopted a kid to make him feel younger and give him inspiration again, but Leo had taken that in a whole other way. He felt as if Carl got Markus to replace him as a son, so that made his relationship with Carl turn even more bitter than it was previously (they had never truly gotten on). Besides that, Leo was a grown adult, but didn't have enough money to provide for himself so he lived with Carl and Markus. Carl was fine with it as long as he quit taking drugs and got a job. But, Markus knew Leo still took it. And he thinks Carl may know deep down too.

“Leo,” Carl said as calmly as possible, “I didn't even know you were back yet. I was in my studio for the past three hours.”

“Yeah well, it was great,” he shrugged.

“That's good to hear.”

An awkward silence settled over them, and then Leo set his eyes on Markus.

 _Oh great,_ Markus thought sullenly, _here we go._

“How bout you, _Golden Boy?_ ” Leo sneered. “How was your _special_ day?”

“Leo…” Carl groaned.

“What?” Leo snapped, tearing his crazed eyes towards his father. “Why can't I ask my dear, _perfect_ brother how his day was? You seem to not have an excuse to ask how his day went? Why can't I?”

Carl sighed, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

“You're on it again, aren't you?” 

“Oh, why does it matter?!” Leo shouted in disbelief, then to gesture madly at Markus. “Just because I can't be oh-so- _fucking_ perfect like your Golden Boy here, doesn't mean you have any excuse of being a shitty dad to me!”

“Leo!” Carl yelled back at him. “This isn't Markus’ fault! If you have a problem with my parenting skills, that’s between you and me.”

“Since when could you give a shit about how I feel?! I'm so done with your bullshit, dad!”

Carl groaned, punching his temple in frustration, and Markus shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He really wanted to leave, but he wasn't sure if he could with Leo still standing in the doorway, high and agitated. 

“Right now, what matters is that you're back on drugs after swearing you wouldn't take them anymore,” Carl said through gritted teeth.

“The only time you seem to care what I'm doing is when I'm doing drugs!” Leo yelled, his bloodshot eyes not getting any less crazier. “All you pay attention to is your little Ken doll you adopted when you were _depressed._ ”

“Leo--”

“And look how well that turned out for you!”

“Leo!” Carl bellowed. “I think you need to leave, now!”

Leo looked at his father and disbelief.

“Fine,” he said. “But these drugs that you hate so much, _dad_ , probably love me more than you ever did!”

He walked out and closed the door with a bang. Markus shivered. He had never liked Leo. When he was first adopted by Carl, and heard that the man adopting him was not only a famous painter, but he also had an older son, Markus was over the moon about getting an older brother. However, he had quite the cold dose of reality upon meeting him, for Leo was anything but elated to have a new brother. So Markus had never considered him one, since Leo was nothing but a constant reminder that Markus wasn't actually Carl’s family, no matter how much Carl insisted he was. Leo made Markus feel like an outsider, whether he was under the influence of drugs or sober.

“I'm sorry, Markus,” Carl apologised, placing a hand on Markus’ forearm in hopes to comfort him.

Markus managed a smile.

“It's okay, Carl,” Markus said. “They're just words.”

But they still hurt, nevertheless.

~~~

The next day was school.

Carl offered to drive Markus but Markus refused, hoping to catch Simon on the way there, which he did. Upon arriving, Markus and Simon found North and Josh caught up in a heated argument. 

“What lower species of humans were your ancestors for you to get that kind of opinion?” North growled. “Strawberry milk is an abomination to humanity.”

“And chocolate milk is overrated,” Josh stated calmly, which only seemed to rile North up more. “No need to question my heritage, North.”

“Hey guys,” Simon perked up, nervously. “I understand that you guys seem to be in a very… uh… _interesting_ debate right now, but class is about to start, and it's maths, no less. That's one of the classes that we'll all be sharing!”

North seemed to relax and Josh smiled. Markus couldn't help but respect how Simon could keep the peace between those two.

They made their way to the class, which was a class run by none other than Richard Perkins. Markus actually thought he heard North growl under her breath. 

The class was normal enough, even with Mr Perkins. Clearly, he was a rude teacher. He liked to pick on one person especially, who he had come to learn the name of through his tauntings, Connor Anderson. 

“Where's that homework I assigned you, Connor?” Mr Perkins sneered as he walked leisurely up to the boy in the back.

“Homework?” Connor asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “I didn't _get_ any homework.”

“This one,” Another kid, Jerry, said, holding up a sheet of paper.

Markus had got that too. First day of school. The whole class looked around at Connor, who looked genuinely confused.

“Mr Perkins, I didn't receive anything,” he said, trying to convince him as well as the class.

“I specifically remember giving it to you Connor,” Mr Perkins said, looking smug. “I'm very disappointed in you.”

“But sir--” 

“Detention in my office after school for arguing back.”

That shut Connor up, though he sighed and glared at the back of Mr Perkins’ head. Markus turned around and shuddered. He couldn't deny there was a part of him that believed Connor. He seemed genuine enough, but it was too early to tell. He looked at North who was sitting next to him, and seemed to bore her eyes into her hands. She looked frustrated, nothing new.

“What did he do to get on Mr Perkins’ bad side?” Markus asked fretfully, nodding his head at Connor. “Is he a troublemaker or something?”

North shook her head and her eyes finally lifted to meet Markus’. Markus wondered why she was always upset, he wanted to help her, but now was not the time.

“Connor’s father and Mr Perkins knew each other back in the day, and they weren't friends,” she stated under her breath as Mr Perkins started his lesson.

“That's all?”

“That's all I know.”

A minute passed in silence where they were writing down the theory on the board. Markus looked back at Connor, who looked quite miserable.

“He still shouldn't of gotten a detention for that, though,” Markus whispered to North.

North stopped what she was doing and looked at Markus.

“That Connor Anderson kid? I have English and music class with him. He does all of his homework. He's kind of a nerd.”

North glances at Mr Perkins, and then at Connor again.

“Mr Perkins set him up,” she said finally.

Markus’ eyes widened, only to narrow again and both he and North were silently glaring at Mr Perkins.

 _Yeah,_ Markus thought. _Mr Perkins is not a nice guy._

~~~

It was lunch break before he knew it. Markus had breezed passed a double math period with scary Mr Perkins, who had rounded on another poor, unfortunate soul, who had spaced out at the wrong time. And when Mr Perkins called on the kid, Lucy Klieten, to answer a question, and she didn't know the answer, she would soon find herself joining Connor after school.

Markus then had a recess break, which he spent with North and Simon only, since Josh seemed to have a music class. He played bass guitar.

Even though the group seemed to be missing an essential piece to them without Josh, Markus was grateful that he didn't have to withstand another argument between him and North. He didn't know how Simon could stand it. However, North still seemed distracted and angry, and Markus didn't know why. She hardly contributed to Simon and Markus’ chatter, and she kept glaring off into the distance. Not only was the group missing Josh, but also North. He liked Simon, but he would've preferred North to be with them mentally too. 

Josh came back after period 3, which was Humanities. He greeted Markus briefly and sat down next to him.

After a double period of that, it was lunch. He was leisurely eating on a table with Josh and Simon. North excused herself to the bathroom as soon as the bell for lunch break rang, and she hadn't come back. It was obvious something was up with her.

“You know, our year level is going to be pressed to vote for a few people to take on some of the leadership roles,” Simon said. “Unless someone volunteers, which no one will ever do so. Not even the nerds of our year level will.” 

“What's that?” Markus asked, after swallowing a mouthful of dry chilli yee mee, his favourite Asian dish.

“Every year, one student per year level is elected to take on being the leader of all the student leaders. It used to be two, one girl, one boy, but now since no one volunteers anymore they have one being the minimum, and two being the maximum. It's called being the ‘school representative’. They even get some power over some teachers.”

Markus grinned, thinking of having control over Mr Perkins.

“And sophomores are allowed to volunteer?” Markus asked. “I thought only seniors would be allowed to qualify.”

“Yeah well, the seniors kept complaining about having to force one of their own to that position. And since it lasts the whole year, they complained that it ruined their last year of school. So then the teachers gave the position to the juniors, and just so they won't start complaining, the sophomores too,” Josh answered.

Markus shook his head.

“That sounds cool! Why doesn't anyone want to volunteer?”

Josh sighed.

“It's hardcore,” he said. “There's a lot on your shoulders when taking this up. A lot of jobs to do, homework, research. You're literally the student face of the school. You're supposed to build it for the better, but this job will literally take your whole year away. Plus, it's offered to the students with the most baggage on their shoulders. Juniors and seniors all have a lot to do by itself, and then us sophomores are trying to enjoy our last year of peace before all hell breaks loose.”

“There was once this kid, Brandon Yosuf, I think his name was, who was elected to this position,” Simon said, shaking his head. “He actually moved schools because the work was too much to bear. He was a junior.”

“That's why sophomores are normally chosen for this, because we don't have as much work as juniors and seniors.”

“And is this a compulsory vote?” Markus asked. 

“Yeah. Normally you are supposed to vote for one of the people who volunteered for this, but if there aren't any who volunteer, then we just pick someone who we think is eligible enough.”

“Why don't the teachers just pick?” 

“Beats me,” Josh said. “It would be smarter if they pick too, since most people just vote for the piss of it. Like voting for someone really lazy or a troublemaker.”

“I hear the fan favourite this year is Ralph Wardens,” Simon discussed as Markus looked around for a water source. His Yee Mee was spicy, all right. And Markus had forgotten to bring a water bottle.

“I'm going to get a drink,” he said, dismissing himself to the boys.

The drink taps were near the toilets, on the wall opposite. Hopefully he'd find North as well, since she'd been gone the whole lunchtime, he was starting to get worried.

But she didn't even seem to be using the toilets. No one was. No one at the boys toilets or girls toilets for that manner. Markus would have to ask about her after lunch break. He bent down to turn on the running water, when he heard some distant laughter down the hallway.

He looked to see a group of sneering people coming toward him, and Markus felt a sick feeling in his gut. There was Gavin Reeds.

“I don't think we've formally met,” Gavin said to him, looking him up and down. “You're the new kid, right? Heard you were homeschooled.”

Markus silently nodded, really not wanting to cause trouble with him. He looked around at some of the people he was with, and even though his group wasn't that big at all (there was maybe four or five of them) they looked like a whole army compared to him. 

“Not much of a talker, are you?” Gavin said, as Markus heard some of his mates snickering behind him. “Do I have to ask you to introduce yourself? I know I don't have to, since you've probably heard about me, but you? Right now, you're a nobody.”

“Markus Manfred,” Markus said stiffly, feeling more and more tense as Gavin’s group blocked all routes of escape for him. He felt like cornered prey, and he really didn't like it.

“Manfred? Like Carl Manfred?”

“Yeah.”

“Ohhh,” Gavin’s eyes darkened, and the look in his eyes kinda reminded Markus of Leo. He had done or said something wrong. “You're one of those rich bastards, eh?”

Markus didn't say anything, so Gavin proceeded.

“I bet you've never got more than a slap on the wrist. Well, guess what, buddy? You're in high school now. _Now,_ people don't care whether you're dad’s the shit or not. For instance--”

He pushed Markus roughly. As Markus stumbled back, one of his guys put a foot out so he tripped and found himself sprawled out on the ground. 

“Didn't like that, did you?” Gavin sneered. “Come on, get up.”

Markus put his hands on the ground and started to lever himself up, but the same guy who pushed him, kicked him on his side and pushed him down again, so forceful this time that Markus let out an exclamation of pain as hit the floor again.

“Come on, get up!” The guy yelled at him as the girl next to him started to laugh. 

She fixed her cold eyes on him a second later, as he clutched his side in pain and made no effort to hurry up.

“Look at this motherfucker,” she spat. “Got the balls to come into this school lookin like you run the place but you can't even stand up.”

Markus wanted to scream. To yell at them and make them regret thinking they could ever mess with him. Markus wanted them to know how unfair they were being, and how they weren't being cool at all, they were just being absolute idiots. But he couldn't. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He felt helpless and weak, exactly how they wanted him to feel, and he hated that he felt that way. And that others felt that way too.

Markus stood up again, it was slow, but he did it.

Gavin grabbed him roughly by the shirt. He opened his mouth to growl something at him, but someone stopped him.

“Hey!” A familiar voice yelled from behind them. “Let him go!”

The group of people turned around to see who talked, and Markus angled his head to see too. 

It was North.

And behind her, was Simon and Josh.

“Yeah, or what?” Gavin laughed, though he looked more nervous. There was enough people as his group now.

“Do you want to know?” She asked, crossing her arms with defiance and glaring at Gavin maliciously.

Markus felt the pressure of her glare, and reminded himself for the 100th time to not get on her bad side. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

Gavin gave in. 

“Fine,” he said, letting Markus go, but then turning to him once they were a few feet away. “Have fun with your _whore_ girlfriend, freak. Don't think she's only rough with us,” he called.

Markus groaned, and turned to North protectively. 

“Don't listen to them, they're idiots,” he muttered, but by the look on her face, she was pretty shaken by that. He didn't know why. He looked at Josh, who looked triggered too (Josh looking angry? That's a first). Simon was physically shaking, but once he made eye contact with Markus, he looked even more stressed.

He was also the first one to rush up to him.

“Are you ok?” He squeaked, looking pale and faint. 

“Markus, did they hurt you?!” North demanded, searching his body for any disfiguring. She was obviously trying to forget about that last comment.

Josh took a deep breath, then stared at him cautiously.

“I'm ok,” he said, mostly to reassure Simon. “And no, North. They didn't hurt me that much. They just roughed me up is all.”

North nodded, but she didn't look convinced.

“North, are you--?”

“I'm fine,” she said curtly.

“Are you su--?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” he sighed, but also not seeming convinced either. He turned his attention to all of them. “Thanks for coming to get me, guys,” he said, genuinely touched, and mostly grateful.

“No problem,” Josh grunted, looking down the hallway the group backed off to.

“Anytime,” Simon answered softly, still looking a bit shaken.

“We're never letting you walk around alone again,” North spat, and Markus was actually quite okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter and it's been so long! So my thought process for this was that you definitely had to meet Carl and Leo, and I wanted to build up more mystery behind North and her past. Plus, in case you're as oblivious as Markus, Simon has the hugest crush on him. Don't know if I should put Markus with North or Simon, so y'all should let me know! Do you like Markus with Simon or North more? And the encounter with Gavin, I tried to make his two other friends the protesters that roughed Markus up in his first chapter. And Mr Perkins is not going to be nice with Connor, either. More about that in chapter seven! Anyhow, catch y'all later!!


	6. "Little One" (Kara's P.O.V.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara plans to meet with the little one. She doesn't know what's going to happen, or if she'll even show. The situation could go many, very different ways, and Kara’s had a fair share of stressing the whole day until the hour of meeting approaches. But, to her relief, the girl does show. And there's a lot on her mind.

The next day, Kara tried not to think about her. The small girl who got punched by her father. She had managed pretty well the first few hours at school. Of course, when she had gotten home the night before, she was totally in shock, and seemed to drift through her nightly routines in a daze, her mind still stuck on what she would do and how she would do it. She had lulled over the thought of calling the police or child services over and over, because that's what anyone should do in that situation . But, there was a chance that that plan could totally backfire if she didn't know more of the situation. So that's what she would do first, learn more about the situation. And her best chance at that was talking to her.

Long shot? Yes. Impossible? No.

She would give it a try.

But it wouldn't do much good if she worried about it all day at school. So, for the first two periods of the day, Kara set her head down firmly, and learned as much as she could. However, the more time passed, the more anxious she became. Luther caught onto her strange behaviour soon enough.

“What's going on, Kara?” He asked at lunch break. “You seem... jittery.”

She spared him a small smile, but then it melted when she thought back to what happened. She knew she should tell Luther. He would understand if anything, and he would most certainly help Kara. Kara didn't like to be alone in this, either.

“Last night,” she started, “I was walking back home when I happened to see a little girl. She looked really scared and sad, and I saw her on the first day of school too, but I just assumed she had a bad day. I saw her again and she still looked devastated. So I was going to go up to her and try to cheer her up since Jerry wasn't around her at the time, and that's when her father came and he looked really angry, and also really unstable. He grabbed her really roughly and took her to the car, and then he started screaming at her, and she was crying. And I felt gutted, and then he…” 

She drifted off, it was too horrible to retell. _That poor girl._

Luther shook her gently, pulling her back to present day.

“Did he… hurt her?” He asked softly.

Kara nodded.

“She was bleeding and bruised, and her father showed no remorse from where I was standing.”

“Did they see you?”

“No.”

Luther looked troubled about the situation, but he also looked more concerned for Kara.

“You're planning on doing something? Something other than calling the authorities?” He asked.

She didn't have to verbally answer to actually answer. She just looked at her hands, but when she looked back up at Luther, he looked even more concerned. She could tell he didn't think whatever she was planning was a good idea.

“I thought about you and Zlatko,” Kara said quietly. “That's when I refrained from calling the police, because in most cases the situation isn't either black or white. I want to make sure before I do anything.” 

That seemed to switch Luther around completely.

“Ok,” he said, as Kara looked at him. “I'm with you.”

Kara smiled gratefully. She knew he would be there for her, but she never took his love and support for granted. She felt way more better after his confirmation, because Luther was a trustworthy person. He wouldn't lie to her. He never had.

“So, what's the plan?” He smiled.

~~~

Kara informed Luther as much as she could about what she was deciding to do later, but her plan was very broad. How it went solely depended on the little girl’s reaction. Her plan was just to talk to her, but she had no idea what kind of approach she should choose. Luther and her discussed about it for a bit, and they came up with a few things they should and shouldn't do, the main one being not to lie, even if it had a higher chance in getting the little one talking.

School was over in a daze of commotion, and Kara and Luther rushed over to the elementary school as quickly as they could. They arrived before the last bell rang for departure (the elementary school ended fifteen minutes after Cyder Line High), and Jerry hadn't even arrived yet.

Kara looked for the car that belonged to the little one’s father, but it was nowhere to be seen. So Luther and her decided to loiter around the school until the bell ended. Jerry came a few minutes after their arrival, and seemed surprised to see someone that made it to the school before him. He greeted Luther and Kara, but picked up that they were in no mood for small talk, so he left them in grateful yet tensed silence.

Then the bell went.

Kara straightened her posture, her eyes brightening with alertness as she scanned the sea of children. The little girl wasn't the most unique child among the students, but Kara sought her out as soon as she stepped out of the school building. She stuck out like a sore thumb, with her frightened posture, and Kara’s heart pained as she noticed a new bruise blooming across her cheek. Kara didn't need to tell Luther which one the girl was.

“You go,” Luther said when Kara looked at him for confirmation. “I might scare her.”

Kara nodded a took a deep breath, but steadily made her way over to her.

“Hello,” she greeted, trying her most flashiest smile at the girl. “I'm Kara.”

The girl looked quite alarmed at the unfamiliar greeting. She looked around and murmured, “Sorry, I think you might have got the wrong person.”

Her eyes cast downwards and she started to walk away until Kara grabbed her hand softly. The girl’s widened at the contact, and she looked up at Kara with confliction. Kara took a deep breath, might as well spill the beans now.

“I'm sorry,” Kara started, “but when I was walking back from school the other day, I saw your dad and you, and I saw what he did to you in the car.”

The girl’s brown eyes widened and she immediately whispered, “Please don't tell the police! My dad doesn't know what he's doing! He--” 

“Alice!” A voice shouted gruffly from behind them. “The fuck are you doing?!”

Kara’s eyes left the little one and fixated them on the man behind her. And the girl pivoted her whole body around. It was the father, looking incredibly tired, incredibly grumpy, and incredibly greasy.

“I have to go,” the little one murmured.

“Meet me here tomorrow around 4pm,” Kara hurriedly stated. “We need to talk.”

The girl, or Alice, looked hesitant, but she nodded her head quickly and turn and ran to her father who was staring suspiciously at Kara and Luther. They left quite quickly, and Kara exhaled, relieved.

“How did it go?” Luther asked, jogging up to her.

“We’ll see about that tomorrow,” Kara said. “I'm supposed to meet up with her at 4 in the afternoon tomorrow.”

Luther cringed.

“Sorry Kara, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it. Zlatko will probably ground me because I spent some time after school here, instead of coming straight home.”

Kara’s eyes softened, and she felt bad. This was partially her fault, and if she hadn't dragged Luther into this, he wouldn't have to face the wrath of Zlatko later.

“Don’t stress about it,” Kara said, gently grabbing Luther’s hand and interlacing their fingers together. “I'll walk you home.”

~~~

Saturday had Kara fidgeting with anxiety. She tried to do her homework, or distract herself with cooking, cleaning or anything relaxing. She tried texting Luther too, but he didn't respond. She figured Zlatko confiscated his phone.

 _Another person to worry about,_ Kara thought dejectedly, turning off her phone as she did so.

She decided to prepare for her meeting with Alice. She didn't know much about her situation at home but she did know that she was a somewhat good chef. She could only hope that Alice liked turkey sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies. She took about an hour or so on the snacks, then pre-packed them. She also made bottles of iced lemonade. She didn't know how long they were going to be there, so she might as well come prepared. She packed them all in her backpack when she was finished.

At around four in the afternoon, Kara started her way down to the park. On the way, she saw Adam harvesting the vegetables in his front garden.

“Hi, Adam,” Kara called out, waving.

Adam looked up and upon seeing Kara, frowned at her. Then continued to tend to his garden. Kara purses her lips, but didn't pursue her attempt at conversation more. She made it to the Cyder Line Elementary way a bit early, but that's because she didn't know what else to do.

She decided to loiter around, like she did yesterday. A few minutes later, she saw a familiar face, but not the one she was expecting. 

Ralph was trying his luck at opening the doors to one of the teacher staff rooms. They all seemed locked, and Ralph groaned angrily, slamming his fist on the door in frustration.

Kara furrowed her eyebrows. She had never seen Ralph near the elementary school before. She didn't think he lived this side of Detroit. What was more, was Ralph was still in the same attire as yesterday, when she saw him at school. He did that sometimes, show up in the clothes he wore the day before, but when she saw him now, he literally looked like a wild animal. Like he slept out in the streets the night. He looked dirty, and aggravated and desperate.

 _What was he up to?_ Kara thought.

“Hey Ralph,” she spoke up, a little uncertainly. “What're you doing?”

Ralph’s crazed eyes flashes towards her, and upon realising who she was, he immediately tried to flatten his dirt-caked, matted hair.

“Kara,” he said, eyes staring intently at her, then he snapped back to the present. “I wasn't trying to steal, I promise. Ralph would never do that!” 

Kara raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Really? What were you doing then, trying to break into the staff rooms?”

Ralph’s hazel eyes lowered to stare at his hands guiltily. “Ralph didn't mean to make it seem like that. He just wanted food, and he knows there's a lot in the staff room.”

Kara eyes him for a second, and nodded, knowing he was being genuine in his explanation. She didn't make Ralph out to be a good liar. But then she felt bad. Why would Ralph be hungry and feel the need to steal from staff rooms unless he didn't have enough money to pay for his food? Did he actually spend his nights on the street? Was he actually homeless?

“Ralph,” Kara started slowly, “you do have somewhere to live, right?” 

“Oh, yes!” Ralph nodded excitedly. “It's on the other side of Detroit. Kara, you should come one day. Then we can hang out like normal friends!”

Kara didn't bother to hide her relief as she visibly exhaled. She then let a tired smile show.

“Yeah, maybe one day, Ralph.”

Before the interaction could continue any longer, Kara saw Alice making her way towards the school, nothing but a teddy bear in her arms. She turned back to Ralph hurriedly.

“Ralph, I've got to go,” she said.

Ralph nodded.

“Ralph too! He has to get back to his house or find some food. It's a long way back to to where he lives.”

He turned to walk away, and Kara physically face-planted herself for not thinking of this earlier.

“Ralph, wait,” she said, and before he could respond, Kara took out two turkey sandwiches and a bottle of chilled lemonade and thrust in his arms. “There, now you have something for the way home.”

And before Ralph could respond (he looked absolutely astounded, which broke Kara’s heart a little), she rushed over to Alice, who looked quite lost.

“Hi,” Kara said. “You came.”

Alice nodded, looking around like a scared puppy. Her fretting was kind of making Kara nervous, so she decided to sit down on one of the benches. She patted a spot next to her, indicating for Alice to sit down, and she did.

“Are you hungry? I made some turkey sandwiches? And cookies too.”

Alice looked up at her, surprised. She looked quite touched too, and at a loss for words.

“Really? You didn't have to,” Alice said in a small voice, melting Kara’s heart. 

“Here,” Kara said brightly, digging in her backpack and bringing out a jar of cookies, two bottles of lemonade and the rest of the turkey sandwiches. “I also made lemonade. And the cookies kind of got a bit cold on the way here, sorry.”

“That's ok,” Alice said as she reached for a sandwich. Her eyes immediately brightened as soon as she took a bite from the homemade lunch. As she ate more and more, Kara could tell that Alice was trying her best to look like she was mostly eating for the sake of being polite, of that the food was good. However, Kara could tell the little girl was really hungry, for in the silence where they both ate, Alice had finished half of the cookies, all of the turkey sandwiches (Kara only had one), and downed her lemonade. She smiled contently after the meal, and Kara noticed this was the first time she had seen her smile.

“Did you like it?” Kara smiled cheekily.

“Yeah,” Alice said sheepishly. “Thanks a lot, Kara.”

 _She remembered my name!_ Kara thought excitedly, but her chest fell heavy upon realising what they came to do in the first place.

“Alice,” Kara said gently, outing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “do you want to talk about what's happening back at home? With your father?”

Alice’s eyes clouded over for a second, as the question seemed to hit her with such an impact that she was left quietly thinking. Kara wouldn't rush her with her answers, though. She knew Alice would open up to her eventually, and alas, she did.

“Ever since my mommy left daddy and I, he always feels like he has something to prove,” she said in a small voice. 

Kara listened intently.

“I was six at the time, and it was three or so years ago, but daddy was very different before my mommy left. He smiled more, he was neater, and his words never slurred. My mommy was always dreaming of a good life. She wasn't always there, and she liked to escape from her problems too much, but she was sweet. And everything was fine until daddy got fired from his job. And then mommy and daddy started to have fights, really loud ones too. I would always go up to my room and try to concentrate in drawing or playing to block out their mean words. Then daddy started to drink. And his smile went away and his words sounded funny. And he got angrier everyday. And he got meaner too. And one day, when him and mommy were fighting, daddy slapped her. That was the day that daddy found out she loved someone else, and she didn't love daddy anymore. And then mommy left that day. She wanted to take me with her, but I was really scared and hurt. So I stayed with daddy. And then I never saw her or spoke to her again.”

Alice’s eyes were tearing up, her voice kept catching and breaking, and she kept hugging herself. It was enough to make Kara want to cry as well. She put a comforting hand around Alice’s shoulder, a small gesture, but she hoped it was a comforting one.

“After that, daddy started drinking more and started taking something medication that is supposed to help him, but I think there's something wrong with them because it's not. And he's much more messy, and doesn't like to cook or do laundry. He also started spending money on something that looked like powder, but he would put it up his nose instead. He told me to never go near it, so I didn't, because the powder turned daddy into a monster. He was always mad at me. He _is_ always mad at me. He hits me and calls me mean names, and he can't let anything go. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Kara. I just want him to love me, and we can be like we were before, we can be normal. Is it my fault, Kara? Is it my fault that mommy left us and why daddy’s so angry all the time?”

By the end of it, Alice was red-eyed, sniffly and had fat tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. Kara knew she was crying as well. She didn't think twice when she confidently took Alice into her arms and held her there whilst Alice quietly sobbed into her jacket.

“No Alice,” Kara said firmly. “It is not your fault at all.”

They sat there like that for what seemed like eternity, and Kara couldn't stop all the thoughts running through her mind. 

This poor, little girl has had more hardships in her life than Kara did. She’s so young, and already so broken by the mess of events that took place. It made Kara sick to think of someone as vulnerable, helpless, innocent and fragile as Alice to be going back to a home _like that._ And worst of all, Alice blamed herself for the mistreatment of her father. She blamed herself for her unlucky set of parents. And it made Kara feel so disgusted by the situation.

“Alice,” she finally said, and Alice looked up to her with wide tears eyes. And when she did, Kara saw something in them that made her make up her mind once and for all. She looked at her with unwavering trust, and Kara knew for sure she was going to do everything in her power to protect this little one. 

Kara placed her hands on Alice’s face and gave her a tiny, watery albeit mischievous smile.

“I have a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again! I hope I did this chapter somewhat well (especially Alice’s explanation), since the situation is so serious. Anyways, it's one of the short ones, but I hoped it was okay. Finally, first sighting of Adam, though he doesn't say anything. And I wanted to get more insight on Ralph’s backstory and life too. But anyways, moral of the story: Kara is a kind, protective bean who has everybody's backs. Her grand plan will take place in chapter nine!


	7. "Food Doomsday" (Connor's P.O.V.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor’s in big trouble now. Not with Gavin, or the mysterious encounter by his old friend, Chloe, or Daniel who was right there along with him during the whole fiasco. No, it's his family. If Ronan’s reaction is bad, then Hank’s reaction will be explosive, and Connor’s not sure he will be able to handle it. There's only one thing that can save him now. And as weird as it sounds, it's the day.

When Connor got home that day, he was immediately drowned in questions by Ronan, who took one look at his little brother and knew exactly what had happened.

“I knew it,” Ronan growled. “That _Reeds_ is still messing with you.”

Connor was silent for a minute. He was planning on trying to lie his way through. Maybe he was robbed, or he just fell down some stairs (he was a clumsy person sometimes), but the look on Ronan’s face wasn't a question. And Connor new there was no point in lying, so instead, he tried to switch tactics.

“Please don't tell dad!” Connor begged. “Who knows what he’ll do if he finds out about Gavin again. He’ll go mental, Ronan! Absolutely mental!”

“I'm about to go mental!” Ronan yelled back at him. “Why didn't you tell us sooner, Connor?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of you two handling _my_ problems,” Connor confessed, trying to give his brother his guilty, puppy-eyes that worked like a charm when he was younger, but he knew he probably looked stupid now, and it was kind of hard since both him and Ronan were in the car and Ronan was currently driving.

“We handle your problems for you because you obviously have no idea how to handle them yourself,” Ronan said coldly, sparing a glance at Connor. “And stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“Your puppy eyes! They may of worked on dad but they've never worked on me and never will.”

Connor immediately stopped and settled on pouting out the window.

“Come on, Ronan,” Connor muttered. “You have to let me solve my own problems. I want to deal with Gavin _myself_ , but I'll never get to do that if you tell dad. Aren't you even curious about why he beat me up?”

Ronan was silent for a minute, then sighed.

“Even if I wanted to help you, what kind of excuse will explain this,” he gestured vaguely at Connor's bashed up body, and didn't even think about Connor’s last question. 

“We can just say I was robbed.”

“ _Robbed?_ ” Ronan repeated, letting out a sharp laugh. “Wow, Connor. I really underestimated you. Before I thought you were a bad liar. Now, I think you're the _most terrible_ one I've come across.”

“That's why I need your help! If I lie to dad, he’ll never believe me. But if you lie to him instead, then I actually could get away with this.”

“I don't know what to say, Connor. I really don't.”

“Just say I was robbed! You can take all of my lunch money so it'll play the part, and then you can back me up.”

“How? Unless I was a witness to the crime I have no right in backing you up, and then that'll look even more suspicious to dad. He's a Lieutenant, Connor, you can't afford to be sloppy with him.”

Connor sighed, trying to comprehend why his brother was so slow.

“So? You can say you saw it!” He said, thinking that _just maybe_ he could get Ronan to be on his side, but then Ronan shook his head again.

“ _Think,_ Connor. What would've happened if I actually saw you get mugged? You know I wouldn't just stand by and gape. And what would happen if dad got a hold of this information? And let me remind you, he's not just a police officer, he's a _Lieutenant._ ”

That made Connor shut up. Maybe it was the throbbing in his head that made him not see the holes in his plan sooner, but it still made him burn with shame. 

Ronan must've felt some pity, because when Connor and Ronan finally got to the house, Ronan slung his backpack over his shoulder and said, “I'll deal with this.”

He then walked inside the house and Connor waited a few minutes (maybe more than just a few minutes) before taking a deep breath, and entering his household. When he walked in, Hank was sitting gravely in the living room, in the antique red armchair that was half eaten by moths. Ronan was spread out of the couch, and eyeing his father, as Hank turned to look at Connor and gave him a once-over.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hank spat under his breath, massaging his temples, though his eyes yielded deep, protective concern. “God, Connor, you don't listen, do you?”

Connor stayed silent. He had no clue what Ronan told his dad, but he wasn't going to bring it up.

“Nines, grab me a bottle of much needed whiskey,” Hank groaned, gesturing towards Ronan.

“Wow, I haven't heard you call me that in a long time, dad,” Ronan smirked.

“Just go.”

“Can't, tonight’s the night.”

Connor's lowered eyes shot up. Hank removed his hands from his face. All eyes were on Ronan. Ronan rolled his eyes and muttered something about ‘being the only one to keep this family from falling apart.’

Then he turned and looked at Connor and said with a smirk, “So, Connor? What're you in the mood for tonight?”

Slowly, but surely, Connor's beaten face stretched into a wide smile.

~~~

Normal families celebrated Christmas. Normal families celebrated Thanksgiving. Normal families celebrated Halloween. But the Anderson’s worshipped something else. 

_‘Food Doomsday’_ was a day that happened only once or twice a year, giving no set annual date, but being at total random. This was the day Hank had to be 100% sober, and it's been a tradition from when the boys were little. Ronan and Connor could pick any meal for their father to make, and Hank would have to try and find a way to make it by only buying stuff from Chicken Feed, and talking to staff and customers around the place. This day was a day that no one have missed, it was number one priority over everything else and even if Hank’s job got messy, he would always make way for this. There were no limits to what Connor and Ronan could request. Well, maybe two limits.

“I would like a salad, but instead of normal lettuce leaves, I want it marijuana replaced,” Ronan requested immediately.

Hank groaned.

“Do I have to remind you of the rules every year?” Hank asked incredulously. “Drugs and poo isn't allowed. I want to raise both of you right to your twenties, and then you can kill yourselves.”

“Can you make a croissant out of the chicken and patty you buy there?” Connor asked, smirking a bit evilly at his father’s raised eyebrows.

“And make me a dish that looks like Sumo in Jordans,” Ronan said, “and you can make it out of anything.”

Hank looked like he wanted to die, but he set off to Chicken Feed anyways. As he was gone, Connor gave his brother a curious look.

“So, what'd you tell dad?” He asked, as Sumo came by to lick sorrowfully at Connor’s bruised knees. He leaned (and winced a bit with pain) forward to pat the dog affectionately.

“I said you saw this other guy getting beat up and you tried to break it up, and got too caught up in it. The guys ran off and I also mentioned that you didn't want to talk about it right now, and that's why I don't have a lot of details because of that and I wasn't there. So dad agreed to not bring it up tonight, but you better be ready, because he's going to interrogate you later. And you better come up with a good lie and start rehearsing your answers, if not dad’s going to pick up that there's something suspicious going on.”

Connor frowned a bit, because he did feel incredibly guilty about indirectly lying to his father. And knowing his dad, he would make it a whole deal, trying to track down those fake bullies. But, he promised he would resolve the conflict with Gavin, and he will, and he'll deal with the consequences later. Because if he didn't stop his issues with Gavin, he wasn't sure he could achieve anything without relying on his family.

“Thanks Ronan,” Connor said.

“Don't thank me yet. I've only given you temporary peace. You're so caught once you get interrogated,” he said, taking his phone out and messaging someone.

Connor was silent for a few minutes, thinking about his actions and how bad his dad will react once he uncovered the truth (answer: _very bad_ ). Ronan must've noticed, because then he added: “Cheer up. Dad's coming back any minute, and you'll be as happy as Sumo is 24/7.”

Ronan has his own weird way of cheering Connor up.

When Hank got back, he swore a lot, but got down to business.

You see, the thing about _Food Doomsday_ wasn't actually about the food at all. That was only the trigger of the real fun. Every year or more, it was the only day where the Anderson family could be, and feel, normal. No one ever admitted it, but with Connor and Ronan’s mother gone, Hank’s drinking problems and growing distance from both his brother and father, Connor could feel his family getting more and more broken up. He didn't like it at all, but he didn't know what else to do about it. He felt pretty helpless in all of it.

But this day was when all of that went away. No alcohol, no need for mothers, no friends or aspirations or past or future. Just those boys having a fun night. Talking about stupid shit that didn't matter at all, cracking inappropriate jokes, gossiping about drama at school or in the workplace, and maybe resulting in food fights. It was everyone's perfect night, so that's why none of the Andersons would miss it for the world.

And they always let their Siri choose when the next set date was, and she could pick any date in the calendar (they let her pick because there used to be too much arguing over who got to pick the dates, so they settled on their disembodied AI that Ronan proclaimed would ‘get all Schwarzenegger on us and take over the world’). And if the month was yet to come this year, then they would have another Doomsday that day. If the closest of that date was next year, so be it. Everyone knew it couldn't be everyday, even if it was that fantastic. Because then they'd have to be normal, and they weren't normal. It's different when you try to become a perfect family all the time, and it could end up really ugly. No one was willing to risk breaking their fragile family apart. Well, at least Connor wasn't going to risk it. He was _never_ going to risk it.

After Hank was done struggling with Connor's chicken croissant, and also trying to chop various pieces of meat and bread into what did not resemble Sumo’s limbs at all (and squiggling shoes on it with ketchup), dinner was served.

And it was disgusting. As always. 

They spared a few bites for their father’s hard work, but then offered what was left to Sumo, who didn't even want that either. They threw it away and got out the actual burgers (Hank always bought normal Chicken Feed burgers because he knew his sons wouldn't eat whatever they asked for). 

They sat at the table and talked about all sorts of random stuff. Hank was complaining about a new case that was assigned to him last week, and how he didn't have any leads on the offender, and his boss was apparently being a “fat-fucked, shrivelled-dick, momma-raised bitch”, so to speak. After Hank’s complaining and multiple comments about how he wanted to die, it was Ronan's turn. 

Ronan spoke about how things were going with grades, friends, and sports. His baseball was great, he was their team’s finest pitcher (fun fact: that's actually where Ronan got his nickname, Nines. He's always been number nine when playing any sport, and since he has been so great at everything he did, including sport, people caught on to the number. And Ronan didn't mind at all). However good he was at baseball, though, he still wasn't sure if that's what he wanted to pursue in life. He had been getting plenty of calls from different colleges, all offering scholarships. But Ronan was still having trouble decided what he wanted to be when he was older.

Connor could relate. Not with the career thing, though. He always knew he wanted to be an officer. But with not knowing what he was. Or _who_ he was, more like it.

When it was Connor's time to talk about things, he mentioned Amanda, and what she had said to him. He didn't mention about Gavin, because he didn't want to talk about bad things on Doomsday. And Gavin was a bad thing. And though he didn't speak about him, he could see Ronan’s piercing blue eyes urging him to come clean. Connor tried his best to ignore him.

After eating, Ronan and Connor started to clean up the kitchen (they always cleaned up after Hank on Doomsday, it was like their weird way of saying ‘thanks for trying, dad’). Hank was playing some jazz on the speaker, and was trying to teach Sumo how to dance. It didn't work out right. Sumo just barked at Hank and licked his feet. He gave up sooner than later.

“Ok Siri,” Ronan called (it was his turn to ask Siri), “pick a random date.”

“November 9th,” Siri replied in a monotone voice.

“That's only a month and a bit away!” Connor remarked, seeing as they were halfway through September already.

“Fuck yeah,” Hank whooped, giving Ronan a fist bump, and then high-fiving Connor, “I knew making Siri choose our dates was a good fucking choice all those years ago.”

Connor didn't decide to argue, even though it was originally _his_ idea, and Ronan and Hank made fun of him in the first place.

They talked a bit more after that, watched some television and then Hank claimed he was tired around midnight, and hit the hay right on the couch. Ronan went to bed not too soon after, and then Connor had no choice but to go to sleep too. He didn't want the night to end, but it was pointless staying up when he had school tomorrow and both his family members were unconscious. He fed the fish a bit before collapsing on his bed and passing out almost immediately.

~~~

It was one week later, and he was sitting in Mr Perkin’s office for detention because of uncompleted homework his teacher never gave to him in the first place.

It was just him and Lucy Klieten, another girl which didn't suit the interest of Richard Perkins. He didn't know what his problem was with her, but he definitely knew what the issue was with him. He hated him for his dad. Because of some stupid things that went down in elementary school, that should be forgotten about now. But no, Perkins couldn't let go. His dad wouldn't talk about it a lot, since he hardly remembered who Perkins was most of the time, but Connor predicts that maybe Hank liked to tease him (he teased him plenty in the car when he saw what he looked like on their school website, and how much he aged upon realising who he was). But he knew it was because of his dad, since Ronan had the exact same issue in freshman and sophomore, where both he and Connor was unlucky enough to have him as a maths teacher _twice_ (Perkins taught freshmen and sophomores).

However, he didn't have enough trouble as Connor did, since he basically dealt with Perkins himself in freshman year. Without the help from dad. He told Connor about it, but only because he wanted to brag. He basically told Perkins that if he didn't quit his ‘bullshit’ soon, he would get his dad to make a complaint, and then the teachers would have to supervise him. And if that didn't work, he would go to all the students he treated like shit to make a complaint. And that wouldn't of been too good for him.

So Perkins backed off, and Ronan didn't even have to get his dad. He just had to mention him.

But his attitude a few years back really came to bite Connor in the butt, because now Perkins had even _more_ hatred against his family. Now, he could go about it like his brother did, and boom. It's done. It's solved. But then, Connor had always followed Ronan’s lead when he was younger. It's because Ronan has always been smarter, sassier and more outgoing than him. He was just so _perfect_. And Connor admired him just as much as he admired his dad. 

But the truth was, Connor knew he could never, in a million ways, be as great as Ronan.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to either.

So he wasn't going to fix this the ‘Ronan way’. He’ll fix it the ‘Connor way.’ He wasn't quite sure what the ‘Connor way’ was just yet (he was just planning on making it through the year, and he wouldn't have to get taught by Perkins again), but he was still figuring it out. 

He had texted Ronan before detention, telling him not to wait up for him. He didn't go into detail, even when Ronan pried. He’ll just tell him later that he got detention.

The good thing about doing extra maths homework by himself (Lucy was there too, but she was quiet for the most part. He didn't know much about her, but what he did know was that they both liked to quietly observe people from afar) was that he had a lot of time to reflect. And sometimes, Connor truly wished he didn't. Because sometimes it was just mortifying. 

But this week had been… interesting, to say the least.

For one, Gavin hadn't touched Connor since his encounter with Daniel. It wasn't because of his fear of Nines. It's probably because the most popular girl at school started hanging out with him. 

That's right, Chloe Roland was on chatting terms with him. _Chloe Roland._

Connor never thought she would want to be friends with him again. Granted, he hadn't done anything wrong in the first place. They just sorta drifted. But now, with her being the ‘Queen B’ of Cyder Life High, she was way too out of his league. 

But there she was on Monday, chatting up with Connor as soon as she saw him at school, like they were old mates. Well, he guessed they were old mates, but Chloe had been ignoring Connor for the last six or so years. Even though that was also Connor’s fault too, for he didn't try to stay in touch with her. He just let her go. And went through the pain quietly.

And then, in the span of a few days, Chloe had introduced Connor to her many friends, most of who Connor forgot now since there were so many of them. But he remembered Traci and Tracy, the two girlfriends, who the one with blue hair smiled and introduced herself cheerily, whilst the brunette one with the pixie cut eyed him suspiciously (he guessed it was kinda suspicious, a nobody suddenly friends with the most popular girl around). He remembered Jerry, who was _pumped_ to meet someone new. He also remembered Andy, who was always attached to the hip of his girlfriend, Mary. And of course, he couldn't forget Chloe’s one and only, Elijah Kamski, who grinned and nodded at Connor, but after hardly gave him a second glance.

Chloe was also being nice to Daniel, but not as friendly as she was being with Connor. And both Connor and Daniel were shocked by it. 

“What's even happening anymore?” Daniel asked him quietly during a geometry period the day before.

Connor didn't answer back then, because he seriously had no idea.

Maybe Chloe wanted to reconnect with him. But he felt it was more than that. When she was around him, she almost seemed relieved, but also nervous at the same time. He couldn't understand it. It was all just _so weird._ But Connor wasn't going to deny that it wasn't a nice change to be liked.

“Anderson, Klieten,” Mr Perkins sneered at them, bringing Connor back to reality. It had also been fifteen minutes past the time the detention was supposed to end, but Mr Perkins always made his detentions go overtime just to make his victims feel even worse. “Have you both finished the math work?”

Both Connor and Lucy nodded.

“Well then,” Mr Perkins said, standing up with more forms. “Since both of you didn't do the homework the first time I gave it to you, maybe you'll learn better with this extra work.”

He dumped three sheets of maths work for both Lucy and Connor each.

“You will complete this by tomorrow, or else I will not be as kind. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” Connor and Lucy murmured.

“Yes _sir._ ” Mr Perkins repeated.

Connor could not believe this guy.

“Yes sir,” they relented.

“Dismissed.”

Connor grabbed his sheets and backpack and immediately got up and left, not looking back. Ronan wasn't around, so he’ll just have to walk home. No biggie.

He could hear Lucy’s footsteps behind him, and feel her eyes on him. He turned around and she was looking at him curiously, with the expression of someone about to ask questions. Connor didn't blame her. But he couldn't be asked questions at the moment. He didn't have the answers to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, fellas! I hope everyone had a lovely pride month but now it's back to business.
> 
> I wanted to include ‘Nines’ as Ronan’s nickname because it just felt wrong referring him to something else when the whole fanbase calls him another thing. So accept that! Chloe and Connor’s relationship is also probably sparking a lot of questions in your mind too. And don't worry, answers will come. You'll get snippets of Chloe and Connor’s past friendship later, and find out what her motives are, but be patient! Tell me if you trust her or not. Another thing that will get more development is ‘Food Doomsday.’ It sounds like an unnecessary, weird event that I put in as a filler, but it's important for later, I swear! 
> 
> Anyways, let's pray that Gavin doesn't cause Connor too much trouble and that he gets stuff cleared up with Hank. 
> 
> Till next time!


	8. "Finding Jericho" (Markus' P.O.V.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon, North, Josh and Markus grow closer and closer together. They're Markus’ first real friends from his world in the orphanage, and then being homeschooled all his life. They mean the world to him, but there's also one other man that he loves with all his heart. And when Markus is forced to say a goodbye he's not at all ready for, he finds himself shutting down. Like a machine.

“You will not tell anyone about this sacred spot, or else we shall banish your tormented and sinful souls to the deepest realms of hell, understand?” North demanded, her eyes ablaze. 

Markus couldn't tell if she was kidding or not, but he nodded his head dumbly. That was good enough for North. Maybe not so much for Josh, though, who still looked hesitant. But Simon didn't even need his oath, Markus knew he trusted him a lot already, which was sort of concerning.

“Okay, follow us!” Simon said, a smile blessing his soft features as he jogged by the docks. Josh followed him, and North paced beside Markus. 

They were running past a deserted docklands just northeast of the Detroit River. It looked like no one had used the place in ages, as the boats that were posted there had all rusted and were now sitting sadly abandoned on the shore. The whole area just seemed really depressing.

Simon and Josh approached one particular ship that was washed up on the shore, and was much bigger than the others. Granted, it couldn't carry huge amounts of cargo, but it wasn't your average fishing boat, either. The deck was quite vast and disappointingly dull. There was enough room to climb inside, judging by the size of the hull, and most of the paint on the ship had been chipped off with age. However, on the side of the hull read the words ‘Jericho’. That much he could make out.

Markus wasn't going to lie. He felt a tad let down. Maybe it was his ‘rich kid’ snobbery coming out, but the place seemed so empty and sad that he couldn't understand why anyone would want to hang out here. Even if he were to tell people about this ‘sacred spot’, who would care? It's not like anyone would want to come here and mess it up.

But then Simon turned around and beamed brightly at him, and Markus immediately felt bad for thinking that way.

“Welcome to Jericho,” he said, proudly.

“Don't worry,” North said, as if she could sense how Markus felt. “It looks cooler on the inside. Come on.”

She was in the lead now. 

She jumped down onto the shore and made her way towards the boat, Simon right behind her. Josh was now next to Markus, and Markus could sense how tense Josh was.

“If you're worried about me telling anyone about this place, I want to tell you that I won't. I don't have anyone to tell, anyways,” Markus told him.

“No, it's not that,” Josh told him quickly, sparing a glance at North and Simon, who were lowering one of the ladders attached to the hull. “It's just, North, Simon and I found this place a long time ago. When we were around the age of six. This place has always been abandoned, for all we know. Everyone uses the docks closer to Lake St Clair, and not this shell of land. Anyways, this place has been _our_ place for years now, and it's not that I don't trust you. It's just that, no one knows of this place except us, and now you. Not even our parents know.”

Markus’ eyes widened. So this _was_ a special thing. Way more important than he knew. He couldn't help but feel a tad sad that Simon, North and Josh, who he now considered his closest friends (and first actual friends), had so much history together without him. However, the more overwhelming feeling was of acceptance. If North and Simon were willing to share this part of their territory, he must be considered truly part of their ‘clan’ now. But, for some reason, he did still felt a bit guilty on Josh’s behalf.

“Josh, I--” he started.

“Don't worry about it,” Josh interrupted, with a smile. “It was my idea to show you.”

Markus couldn't stop himself from feeling surprised. Out of everyone, Josh was the most hesitant with him. At the start, Markus even thought Josh didn't approve of him. He had thought this was originally Simon’s idea, since Simon was always adorably looking for a way to make Markus feel comfortable with them (and he almost always succeeded). He did entertain the thought of North having this as an idea, since she always seemed a bit more relaxed around Markus then anyone else, so Markus thought she might trust him more. But never did he ever think Josh would come up with it.

North and Simon finally got the rusty ladder down finally, and started to climb up. Josh and Markus followed. 

“I know I've been a hard rock to crack, but I have to be with Simon and North,” Josh continued. “Simon trusts people too much, too quickly. And North… is quite impulsive with others. I keep them in check. But I think you're good for us, Markus. I don't have a problem with you.”

He said that as they made their way across the bare deck of the ship, and Markus hadn't felt more touched.

“Thanks Josh,” Markus said, feeling incredibly accomplished that he earned his approval. “That means a lot.”

“Will you two stop yapping and pay attention now?” North asked sharply. She then walked over to the trashed accommodation area that was tightly shut by a metal door with a circular knob. North twisted it open, and she turned on the light that revealed a dirty, empty room. There was nothing but an empty bookshelf and a broken, wooden desk. Simon walked to the corner and approached a trapdoor. He opened it and submerged himself into the darkness, climbing down a ladder. Josh followed him.

“You go first,” North said.

Markus looked down, not realising the worrying expression crossing his face. North laughed, and Markus couldn't help but notice how _lovely_ her laugh was.

“Don't worry, we're not going to kill you,” she said, staring at him adoringly. “Not yet, anyway.”

She nearly calmed his nerves down. _Nearly._ Until that last part.

He climbed down and down and just when he thought that the ladder may go on forever, and he'll be forever in darkness, he touched the floor with his foot. It was still dark, but he could hear shuffling around him, and just assumed it was Simon, Josh, and maybe North, as he heard her get down right after him.

Suddenly, a light flickered on.

And there was a vast living room space, filtered with light from lamps that Simon was turning on, and giving the room a warm glow. Two armchairs and a couch (which probably came with the boat, considering how old they looked and the fact that North, Simon and Josh probably could of never fit it down the trapdoor, which led Markus to wonder how the original people did it) was spread along, with a coffee table covered in various magazines, advertisements and even a sketchbook, which apparently belonged to ‘Team Jericho!’ since it was scribbled in messy handwriting. Markus also thought he would've felt somewhat claustrophobic in the area below deck, but there were thick, paned windows in the hull (Markus hadn't noticed before, since the windows were quite grimy). There was also an air conditioner! It made the room less stuffy, and Markus was glad for the air ventilation. There were blankets and even a makeshift bookshelf (a small one hammered into the wall). There was a counter along the one of the walls, where a small cupboard and fridge were underneath it. There was a trash bag, filled with mostly empty plastic bubble tea cups, and the corner beside it was where all the cushions and pillows were located. There was an empty, cardboard pizza box beside it.

“Oh, guys!” Simon sighed, making his way towards the pizza box and trying to stuff it in the plastic bag. “I thought I told you to throw this away.”

It couldn't fit it the bag, so Simon placed it under it. 

“I went home before North did, and she said she would do it when she took out the trash,” Josh said, giving a sideways glare at North.

“Sorry, I fell asleep,” she shrugged.

“Did you at least put the leftovers away?” Josh asked and Simon moved over to the fridge and looked inside.

“Of course I did!” North exclaimed, affronted. “What do you take me for?”

“This place is so cool,” Markus said wondorously, and picking up the sketchbook of ‘Team Jericho!’

He turned to the first page, where a messy, albeit adorably messy drawing of three mashed people with lopsided smiles, wiggly postures and blocky bodies stood in blue pen, holding hands. They all looked quite the same, but with a few very prominent features that set the group apart. The one standing on the left had a scribble on his head of yellow crayon, the only color besides the blue ink. Simon. The one in the middle was in a dress, smaller, and had longer scribbles coming down from its mangled head. North. The one on the right was the tallest, and - Markus laughed out loud when he saw this - was just coloured in with the dark blue pen where his skin was supposed to show. Josh.

North saw Markus laughing, looked down at what he was laughing at, and snickered herself. Josh peered too, amd cracked a good-natured grin. Simon went over, and his hands cupped his face as he let out a breath of embarrassment. 

“Oh no,” he whined as the three of them laughed. “I forgot to put that away!”

“That's Simon’s amazing piece of artwork,” North snickered, then she pointed at the scribbled Josh. “Though we all look fantastic, I must say that Simon truly shone when he captured Josh’s exotic complexion.”

“Oh, yes,” Josh played along. “Even back then I was so speechless by Simon's talent. No one's artistic gifts can compare. Not even your dad's, Markus.”

Markus grinned as Simon started to stutter out more guilty and embarrassed comments, but Markus paid more attention to the sketchbook, where North and Josh also contributed in. _They must've been really young,_ Markus thought.

“There's a diary too, if you want,” North stated, and Markus soon realised she was sitting next to him on the couch, with a soft smile on her face. Markus was also aware at how close she was, and his face heated up.

“A diary?” He asked dumbly.

“Three, actually,” Josh corrected. “We’re still working on our fourth one.”

“You can write our next entry, Markus,” Simon said, excitedly. “It'll be the first one by you!”

“Am I allowed to read the others?”

“Sure, we've got plenty of time.”

And plenty of time they had.

~~~

“Oh, look what the cat dragged in,” the girl snarled, staring at Markus up and down. 

Markus was currently doing surveys his biology teacher wanted him to fill out. It had something to do with going to each freshman class and handing out papers for them to do, and apparently they'll hand them in to the teachers by the end of class. Or something. Markus wasn't even completely sure himself.

He looked at the girl in confusion, and then it dawned on him. She was the girl who was taunting them when Gavin and that other dude kicked his ass. 

She didn't seem as violent now. She was still cruel, but not crazy. Maybe she was forced to do it. Maybe she was intimidated by Gavin. 

“I don't believe I caught your name,” Markus said, trying to sound casual to the girl who called him ‘little motherfucker’ and complained about how he couldn't stand up when he was literally being held down.

“I don't believe I threw it,” the girl said in disgust as she stepped on his foot. She dug her heel into his toes and Markus instinctively moved back.

_Ok, nevermind. She was still crazy._

“What's your problem?” He snapped at her, and that's when he saw a teacher coming towards them down the hallway, and looking at them curiously. The teacher had saw what had happened, and Markus fought to hold back a grin.

_She's getting in trouble now._

“I already told you, dumbass,” the girl growled. “Walk near me or breath in my direction again, and I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass you'll feel it in your throat. Go back to the shit-eating orphanage you crawled out of.”

And with that, she turned on the same heel she used to step on Markus’ now throbbing foot, walked right past the teacher, and left. The teacher didn't even make an attempt to stop her, she just walked towards Markus cautiously. He realised it was Mrs. Cartland.

“Are you alright, Manfred?” She asked.

“Why didn't you stop her?” He blurted.

Mrs Cartland rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“Well,” she said. “You know us girls. When we have no idea what to do with our confusing feelings, we act out.”

She then nudged him and grinned.

“Maybe she's got a thing for you.”

Mrs. Cartland then sashayed away, leaving Markus confused and itch an unjustified, throbbing set of toes.

 _What the hell just happened?_ Markus thought as he felt his anger build up.

~~~

Markus wasn't in a good mood when he got home either. Even when walking with Simon home hadn't seemed to lift his mood much.

“Maybe we can go make an anonymous complaint,” Simon had offered Markus when he explained the situation to him, and him alone. He hadn't told Josh or North yet, and he did feel sort of guilty about that, but he felt most comfortable in confiding with Simon. He didn't know why.

“What good will that do, anyways?” Markus sighed. “First Gavin and his mates, Mr Perkins being unfair to that Anderson kid and now this. The whole system’s corrupt.”

He kicked a nearby stone and it skidded off the footpath. 

“And that's just on a social standard,” he added.

Simon was quiet for a bit, and Markus assumed it was because he didn't know what to say. There were no excuses to deflect the behaviour thus far.

“Sorry, Markus,” Simon said, and it just struck Markus how sad he looked.

“What for?”

“I don't know. For the way things are, I guess.”

“That's not your fault.”

“I know it's not. It just feels like there should be an apology somewhere.”

They reached Simon’s house, and it was in bad timing too. The two boys stood at his front gate, one expecting the other to leave, the other struggling for something to say. Markus didn't want to end on a bad note. He had never ended on a bad note with Simon yet, and he wasn't going to start now.

“I like your sleeves,” he said, pointing at the sleeves of the jacket Simon sometimes wore. It was dark blue and white, with black sleeves, that were sort of in the form of fingerless gloves. Markus had thought they were until he took a better look and recognised that they were part of the sleeve.

As predicted, Simon’s face bloomed with colour as he looked at his arms and wiggled his fingers.

“Really?” He asked doubtfully.

“Yeah,” Markus answered, and smiled, “you should wear it more. It looks good on you, but then again, almost everything does.”

Simon looked as if he were about to pass out, and Markus started to stress that he overdid it today. 

“O-Ok,” the blonde boy stuttered. “See you tomorrow, M-Markus.”

He then rushed into his house as Markus smiled on. Just like any day. He also caught the eye of Daniel and Emma walking up the street. They hadn't noticed him yet, and Markus thought about saying hello, but concluded that it was better he get home quickly. And upon entering his house, he could smell the red ice coming from upstairs immediately. It disgusted him. But moreover, it meant Leo was still here. And his mood shifted back to being moody again.

He went upstairs to dump his backpack in his room, unpacked his homework and found he was too stressed to do it at the moment. He went down to the living room to look for something to calm him (maybe piano or reading, he loved doing those things), when he caught sight of Carl in the kitchen making a phone call. What he was doing in there, Markus had no clue, but Carl seemed frustrated, and hung up in that manner too. However, once he caught sight of his son, his irritated expression dissipated.

“Hello Markus,” Carl greeted, wheeling himself towards him. “How was your day? You look like something was troubling you.”

Markus shook his head. Perhaps he was overreacting.

“Oh, it's nothing Carl,” he said, not wanting his father to worry. 

Carl could tell it wasn't nothing. He knew Markus more than he would admit. He didn't bring it up, and Markus was grateful for it. He adjusted himself in his wheelchair and winced.

“Are you alright, Carl?”

“I'm fine, Markus,” he said, waving him off. “Not even that old and I'm already getting horrible back problems. Humans are such a fragile machine. They break down so quickly.”

Markus smiled at his grumbling father. He then looked around.

“What was that phone call about? And where's Leo?”

“He's in the gallery,” Carl answered with a sigh. “He said he wanted to take a look at something, and he also wanted to be alone. That phone call, however, is none of your worries. Just another social party I'll be forced into going.”

Markus nodded.

“Say, when was the last time I saw _you_ paint, Markus?” Carl asked, and Markus gave a sheepish laugh. “I've heard you play piano since the first night I adopted you, and I've also groomed you into being a champion chess player. Not to mention your obsession with all this poetry nonsense.”

He gestured towards the shelves of old literature and poetry. Markus didn't want to point out that Carl had most of it before he was adopted.

“You should paint for me more,” Carl said gruffly, his eyes moving to the gallery at the back of the room.

“Sure, Carl.”

“And speaking of which,” his eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Leo’s been in there for quite a while. Let's check up and see what he's up to.”

Markus obliged, but reluctantly so. He took ahold of the handles of Carl’s wheelchair and pushed him through the doors to find Leo hunched over a table with a bunch of Carl’s paintings. They were stripped from the walls, taken out of their frames, and jumbled messily and indelicately together.

“Leo!” Carl exclaimed in outrage. “What are you doing?!”

Leo turned around and his face fell, but only because he was caught. He gestured at his father’s artwork nonchalantly.

“Oh, this?” He sneered, and Markus knew immediately that he was high again. Carl must've known too, because his face hardened. “I'm selling them. It's just early inheritance.”

“You stop this right now,” Carl growled. “You're not in the right frame of mind. What have I told you about drugs?!”

Leo snorted, but his face wasn't smiling.

“What does it matter to you, what I do with my life, and what I do with your old shit when you've passed? You're just delaying the inevitable.”

“You're not my only son.”

“Oh, so you'd rather give your shit to this orphan?” Leo scoffed, gesturing to Markus, who never wanted to leave the room more. 

But alas, he was trapped. Leo started making his way over to him, and Markus wondered when was the last time his step brother had a shower, because he _stunk_.

“If he were to appreciate it more, than yes,” Carl answered boldly, turning to Markus. Leo also trained his clouded eyes on him, and Markus felt a courageous feeling, making him want to defend his father.

“Yeah, I would treasure your art, Carl,” he said, holding Leo’s glare.

“Then so be it.”

“Are you fucking joking?!” Leo shouted. He pointed accusingly at Markus. “You'd rather give your work to this egg-headed brat than give it to your _actual_ son, who shares your own flesh and blood?”

“Yes, I would.”

All eyes were on Leo now, who went silent, but was still just as red in the face as before. He walked slowly over to the table of million dollar paintings, and threw them all off the table with an enraged scream. With that, he started to tear at the canvasses and paper, destroying it all. If he couldn't have it, no one should.

“Leo, no!” Carl shouted pleadingly, but Leo was long past the point of negotiating.

Markus sprinted across the gallery and tried to pry Leo of his father’s items. Even if Leo and Carl had such a strained relationship, Markus knew how much Carl still loved him. He knew Carl was probably heartbroken over this. But then again, he probably had his heart broken by Leo many, many times.

Prying Leo off the paintings made him stop attacking the paintings, and started attacking Markus.

“This is all your fault!” He screamed, his dilated pupils teeming with insanity.

He punched Markus right in the face, and he could feel blood spurt out of his nose. He started punching his arms that tried to block, but there was no winning for Markus.

“No!” He heard Carl yell, as he wheeled over to Leo, trying to make him stop, but Leo just pushed Carl to the ground, making him fall of his wheelchair and lie helplessly.

That set Markus off.

In a fit of anger, Markus punched his step brother in the nose, because how _dare_ he touch Carl like that? How dare he!

Leo kicked him in the shin in response, making Markus see red.

“Please stop!” Carl begged, and something about his voice was more desperate. More strained. 

Markus’ eyesight was quite blurry from Leo’s fists, but they managed to find Carl, who was on the floor, clutching his heart and groaning in pain. His eyes were wide with shock. Markus already knew it was a heart attack.

He shoved Leo off him, who was going to attack again, when he saw his dad too. Markus scrambled to Carl, holding his shoulders and watching the man before him slip away.

“Carl…” Markus said in panic, his eyes swelling up with tears. “No, no, no…”

He turned to Leo.

“Call an ambulance,” he said urgently. But also just stood there in shock, with wide eyes, watching his dying father. “Hurry!”

Leo took out his phone numbly and dialled 911. Markus turned his attention back on Carl. He _would not_ lose him. He would not be an orphan again. He still had so much to do with Carl. So much to learn. So much to say… 

“Humans... are fragile machines.... Remember, Markus... Don't let anybody... Tell you who you are…” Carl whispered to Markus, holding his cheek and wiping a tear away.

He was saying goodbye, and Markus was not okay with it. He wasn't ready to let go of his dad yet.

“No…” Markus choked out, tears running down his face and his whole soul hurting. “Carl, _please_ don't go. Dad, please don't go.”

Carl smiled serenely, looking at Markus with the love of a parent.

“Dad,” Markus begged, whispering now.

And Carl shut his eyes.

“This all your fault, Markus,” Leo spat behind him.

The words rang in his ears.

_This is all your fault, Markus._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THREE MONTHS! I haven't updated in three months and longer!! I don't have any excuses. I've just been so inspiration-derived and have been working on other works that's not on my archives, but inspiration has a way of coming back to you. And Detroit: Become Human is my life and being so of course I can't give up on this!
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you thought of this chapter. There were some hard-hitting stuff in it and I don't know how I delivered that, so give me some feedback! 
> 
> I can feel a Markus arc coming, can't you? :)


End file.
